


pygmalion

by smarky



Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Suzuki-gun are not a family but sometimes they're more, theres some ableist language (stpid) that i wouldnt use myself in here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-12 16:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17471111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarky/pseuds/smarky
Summary: It was a quiet night in the Suzuki-gun locker-room, and Taichi was threatening to kill someone.





	1. ontheway!

**Author's Note:**

> https://njpwworld.com/p/s_series_00229_1_3
> 
> https://njpwworld.com/p/s_series_00234_1_6
> 
> find me on tumblr @axel-mania!!

 

 

 

It could have been any night from the past four years of Desperado’s life.

 

Iizuka was slumped in the corner, sedated, drool dripping onto the table. Someone would have to clean him up, or he’d complain about it later. 

 

Taka was in the showers. KES and the Boss himself were off somewhere unknowable, no doubt terrorizing passersby with either their fists or their business acumen. 

 

Nobu’s presence maybe set the years apart. But he was barely visible, tucked into the corner with his phone held gently in front of his face. He was not available for conversation. 

 

And then there was Taichi, hair brushed artfully out of his face, talking out of the side of his mouth even though no one was fully listening to him. The true uniter. At the moment, he could have been talking about anyone. Even someone in that room. 

 

"He's been stepping on me long enough. I think I'm going to take his belt, then his friends, and see how he likes it. Someone else can get played into taking a match this time. Bastard. I'll get a good look at his face before and after. Not so tough now, huh? Not so pretty? I'm going to kick him in the gut the way he thought he could kick me. Stupid bastard." 

 

And Desperado knew Taichi really meant it. 

 

There was a pause of silence. The door creaked open. Maybe one day the office would start giving them better rooms.

 

"Oh, hello," said Taichi. Desperado turned around and saw Zack. The break in the shell.

 

"Hey. Stupid young lions got me lost again. And I know this building." Taichi and Zack shared a look across the room, smiling. It felt private somehow, so Desperado didn't say anything.

 

Zack walked across the room and slung an arm around Taichi's neck before even acknowledging Desperado. Zack smiled at Desperado, making eye contact for a long second, and then winked. Weird. Desperado couldn't remember any reason why Zack would be signalling something to him. 

 

"So, what are we talking about?" It was bold of Zack to assume 'they' were talking at all. Taichi didn't usually desire a response during a monologue. 

 

"Oh, nothing, only some business I have to take care of later,” said Taichi. "Anyway, let's go get drunk, I'm sick of this place." Zack focused on picking at his collar. 

 

That meant another night of dancing around Zack and seeing him throw himself at other men. Just what Desperado needed. For whatever reason, Zack suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable too. He hadn't been serious about that bet before their matches, had he? 

 

“Sorry, probably not tonight. Desperado said he'd take me out for vegan ice-cream if we both won our matches, didn't you, Desperado?"

 

Shit, he really had been serious. 

 

"Uh.."

 

Zack tugged Desperado up to his feet and leaned over him, hands on his hips in mock-intimidation. Desperado tried to look blankly back at Taichi, whose eyes were wide with interest at their exchange. 

 

"Not backing down from our bet now that you've lost, are you?"

 

"I didn't think you were being serious," said Desperado. Zack swatted at him. 

 

Desperado messed up Zack's hair with a swipe of his hand.

 

"Well, I was, and you're going to take me. I need to get the taste of young lion out of my mouth."

 

"There's easier ways to do that than draining my wallet," Desperado grumbled. Though, he wasn't actually upset, not with Zack pressed against his side. Taichi looked on, eyebrows raised, as Desperado relaxed. "Yeah, alright, I'm a man of my word. Give me a minute to wash up. Unless you're so starved for sugar you can't stand the wait?"

 

Zack pushed Desperado out the door, grinning. "Starved? Darling, I'm famished. Best not keep me waiting unless you want Suzuki to be without a tag partner."

 

"I would never." Desperado tried to shoot an apologetic look towards Taichi before walking out. It was fine, Taka and Nobu would go with him. Desperado was doing him a favor, really. Without Zack there, he'd have one less person to pay for his drinks, and thus be much less liable to get wasted and embarrass himself all over social media again. Or maybe not, Taka always seemed to take pity on him and pick up the tab. 

 

“It's alright, you guys go ahead. I’d hate to get in the way,” said Taichi. He smiled widely to show his sincerity. 

 

“You're not getting in the way, it's only a friendly outing. Just, it's expensive, and you don't even like vegan food,” said Zack. 

 

“Hey, I never said that. Don't put words in my mouth. Wasn't I the one who offered to take you out first?”

 

“Taichi, I’ve seen your social media, and it doesn't say kind things about your eating habits. Are you really saying you're interested in veganism?”

 

“I know Desperado isn't.”

 

“That's not the point!”

 

Just outside the door was Desperado's bag, sagging against the wall by itself with half its contents strewn over the floor. It had been Taichi's turn to collect their things. 

 

Taichi probably just hadn't been thinking, and the rest of the group must have been too focused on other things to notice his mistake.

 

Desperado would talk with Taichi about this later. Definitely. For now, he threw everything back into his bag and got moving towards the showers. Desperado listened to Zack's voice as he walked, until he was far away enough that it had disappeared.

 

What was vegan ice-cream even like? Desperado hadn't thought to look it up. He'd try it once if it made Zack happy, but he sure hoped it would taste somewhat normal regardless. 

 

 

Zack rested his head on Desperado's shoulder almost the whole train ride there. He didn't seem to care that there were other passengers in the car that could be watching. Desperado tried not to think too much about the fact that there probably were-- this level of public physical contact wasn’t exactly common for men in Japan. But it was late at night, and they were drunk on sleep and adrenaline, if not yet alcohol, so it could always be excused. And at first glance, Zack didn't seem like someone who’d be well-versed in Japanese customs, though in fact he’d spent almost as much time in Japan as Desperado. 

 

So, though it was probably the right thing to do, Desperado couldn't move. He was afraid that if he did Zack would get up and sit farther away from him. He couldn’t afford to miss this opportunity to look down and see Zack looking so peaceful and content sleeping on him. Someone who normally clung to people to choke the life out of them was clinging to Desperado for warmth. 

 

Zack usually behaved in a sort of pattern after his matches: first he was full of energy, bursting with either smugness and joy or frustration and bafflement, but sooner rather than later he shot into a limp exhaustion that could only be cured by promises that they would visit a nice club or a restaurant with authentic vegan options. 

 

“Despey?” Zack squirmed. Desperado smoothed his hand down Zack's back to soothe him instinctively. “I’m really sore, right-” Zack laid his hand over Desperado’s and slowly guided it over to his side. “-here.” He squirmed again. 

 

Was he just complaining, or did he expect Desperado to do something about it? Like with any Suzuki-gun member, he needed to be there to help, but touching Zack more would be a bad idea. Desperado could already feel his heart going too fast. 

 

Desperado did it anyway. He moved his arm around Zack and rubbed carefully up and down Zack's waist. His hand fit just right against the smooth, firm curve. 

 

"That feels good, thank you," said Zack, voice muffled in Desperado's jacket. Desperado's hand rested there now, holding him. "You don't have to stop." 

 

So Desperado kept touching him, and imagined they were alone together on the sofa inside his apartment, or even in another room. Zack let out little hums of pleasure every so often, and Desperado burned in satisfaction. 

 

It was a lovely illusion, having Zack there, nearly on top of Desperado like they were that intimate, like Zack was Desperado's boyfriend and this was something they did all the time. Desperado wished this was something they did all the time. If he made sure to be there after all of Zack's matches, maybe it could at least happen more often. Whether Zack let him get this close to him again or not, this would be a moment Desperado remembered. 

 

"I'm glad you're so warm," mumbled Zack. "It makes me think it's still summer. So then it makes sense getting ice-cream, instead of being something weird and counterproductive." 

 

"You don't want something cold?"

 

Zack lifted his head a little to look at Desperado. Desperado's chest tightened. Did he change his mind about the outing?

 

"We could get coffee instead," said Desperado.

 

"No, it's alright, I just feel a bit silly." Zack stopped and burrowed in more against Desperado and then relaxed with a sigh. "I do want to show you how good this ice-cream is. The cold doesn't matter too much, surely someplace close will have heaters. And if not, we can always share body heat like this." 

 

"I guess." This was risky. The longer Zack touched him, the more he craved it and needed to reciprocate, and the more likely it would be that Desperado exposed himself. He couldn't bear to have Zack mock him. Not the one person he could count on from the start. Hopefully the ice-cream would be really bad, and Desperado would be distracted enough by the taste that he didn't feel like trying anything foolish. 

 

"Thank you for taking me out. Not everyone would agree to do this, you know," Zack said suddenly a few minutes later. 

 

"What, to try your vegan food?" Desperado hoped people hadn’t rejected Zack’s invitations too much. There was no reason not to do the decent thing and try. Especially in the face of someone as sweet and earnest, and intimidating, as Zack. 

 

"Yeah. And, generally having a quiet night with me. Everyone always wants to do things as a group. That's nice, don't get me wrong. But it’s not the same."

 

"Of course." Hearing that was a lot. Zack probably wanted more nights like this. And Desperado was someone he could turn to who would meet his needs like others couldn't. Desperado was probably overthinking this, so he held himself back from saying anything."You did win the bet."

 

"I would have pestered you to go even if I lost."

 

Desperado chuckled. "And you assume I would have gone anyway, just to please you?"

 

"No, I assume you would have gone because you thought it would be fun to hang out. And you don't seem to love the group dinners either."

 

Desperado couldn't leave Zack with the impression that he didn't want to be spending time with him, even if he wasn't exactly eager to go for vegan alternatives to things that weren’t broken. 

 

"Yeah, I would've. But this time I'm foolish enough to try these, others I might not."

 

Zack was quiet for a moment. 

 

"That's a shame. I'd always be willing to make you some or bring you something extra. But if you won't appreciate it, too..." 

 

"Let me try this one thing first, then I'll get back to you on whether I'd like any more."

 

"Okay." 

 

Zack closed his eyes and let his hand curl lightly against Desperado's jacket. He drifted in and out of sleep until they reached their station, and Desperado brushed his hand over Zack's arm to wake him. 

 

 

By the time they got to the ice-cream place Zack had picked out, things were pretty much back to normal levels of contact. Impressively, he had barely needed any help from Desperado in reading the menu, which had little English. Now Zack gestured at him with his spoon from across the table as he talked. The ice-cream had turned out to be quite good, almost indistinguishable from the real thing. Or the dairy version, Desperado supposed. It was hard to keep arguing that this didn’t deserve at least some legitimacy. 

 

“There’s some on your face, let me get it for you.” That was all the warning Desperado received before Zack leaned over and trailed his thumb down Desperado’s cheek. Under his beanie, Desperado’s ears were surely turning bright red. “There we go.” 

 

Time to get his mind back on track. "Are you going to be on the Tag League tour?"

 

Zack shrugged. "I'm thinking about it. Suzuki and I would have a great chance of winning if we entered."

 

"That's if the office let you, though. I doubt they'd want to put their favourite teams at risk by putting you and the Boss together."

 

Zack's mouth quirked to the side. "The goddamn New Japan office... well, it'll work out. It's not like Suzuki is my only option for a partner. It's too bad it couldn't be you and me, though."

 

Zack still thought about being Desperado's partner. Zack had finished his ice-cream and was looking at Desperado now, smiling a little with his chin in his palm. Desperado wanted to put his hand there, too. 

 

Desperado put his elbows up on the table and grinned lecherously at Zack. "Thinking of moving up to the junior heavyweight division? I'm sure we can make space for you, if you can take the competition."

 

"If I can take the competition?" Zack's eyebrows raised very high, though he didn't lose his quietly pleased demeanor. "Desperado, I've been 'taking the competition' in this division for over a decade. You can try to bait me like this, but it won't work."

 

"Even if you want it to work?" 

 

"Mm, well. Maybe I can think of an alternative that will get me the same thing I want."

 

"Like?" Desperado tilted his head. 

 

"Oh, I don't know.. you moving up to heavyweight? Don't lie to me, I know you could if you asked, you have the build."

 

"Ha, and spend even more time fighting young lions than I already do."

 

"No, I'm sure you would have more nice spots on the card. Nobu wouldn't have a partner, though, and if he tried to recruit Taka there's no telling what kind of things he could potentially blind him with. Not to mention you never said whether you really wanted to tag with me again."

 

"No, I.." Desperado collected his thoughts. He couldn’t come right out and say that he always wished Zack was his tag team partner. Nobu had taught him a lot, but he rarely noticed the things Zack did. He openly appreciated them even less often. "Of course I want to tag with you again. You're my friend, and I like supporting you." 

 

Desperado smirked and reached over to clasp Zack's shoulder. "And, I like winning."

 

"Naturally. I'm not the one with the, what second longest tag reign, though, am I?" replied Zack. 

 

"You have a whole lot of other titles, much more than I’ve ever gotten."

 

"Not IWGP ones. That's what I really want to get now, more than any other company. We're the best." Desperado didn't want to get his hopes up. Still, it sounded like Zack was saying he wanted to spend more time in Japan. Maybe for real this time. But then, it always sounded like that, before Zack took off for another string of foreign shows and then showed up for just a few days the next month. And barely texted Desperado at all in between. 

 

Desperado wasn't bitter. He understood Zack wanted to spread his values, their values, as far as he could. And he was succeeding. Certainly more than some of the rest of them had been. Missing him hurt, though. Spending months where he saw more of his face on Twitter than he did in person? That's what made Desperado's traitorous heart stray towards Hiromu much more than he wanted it to. Sure, Zack hadn't hurt him purposefully yet. He smiled and complimented and was free with his affection. But at least Hiromu was always in the country, always ready to grab at Desperado and take his breath away whenever he asked. 

 

Zack must have taken Desperado's silence for self pity or bashfulness, because he spoke up again. 

 

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Despey. It's so difficult to do what you do. I admire you. Yeah, you can always go further, but who can't? I haven't won a title here yet, and people are still talking about me."

 

"That's the difference between heavyweights and juniors. We live and die for a few weeks one month in the summer, and then everyone forgets about us again until next year rolls around. And that goes double if you're not the champion."

 

Zack frowned. "You act like I haven't lived through that too."

Well, you haven't, not in the way I have, Desperado didn't say. He didn't need to ruin the moment, with Zack so soft and focused entirely on him, here in the present and close enough that if Desperado really wanted to, he could lean over and kiss him the way he had craved all evening. 

 

Desperado tugged at his coat. "Should we go? It is getting kind of late."

 

"Hmm..." Zack stared at him a little longer, face placid. The soft lighting of the ice-cream parlor was very flattering on Zack. His hair still wasn't quite neat after being tugged at during his match. "I think I'd like to stay a bit longer, to be honest. This is a nice place."

 

Zack shifted to the side and patted the space next to him on the seat. "You should come over and keep me warm, unless you really are ready for the hotel."

 

Desperado hesitantly got up and slid next to Zack. It was a tight fit, the booth not quite meant for two grown men to sit together like this. But it was what Zack wanted, so he would try. 

 

Zack turned to face him. The smallest gap still remained between them, as much as Desperado wanted to close it.

 

"Is this good enough?" asked Desperado. He tried not to fidget. 

 

"Yeah, you are," said Zack. "I mean, you're close enough, this helps." Out of the laxness that his match had put him in earlier, Zack now looked uncomfortably awake, alive and tired in another way. He looked vulnerable, almost, his skin shockingly pale in proximity. 

 

"Good. I wouldn't want you to freeze to death on account of your skinniness. Suzuki wouldn't have a tag partner."

 

Zack smiled softly. "Oi, is that the only reason? Dickhead."

 

Desperado cackled. "He isn't always the first one on your mind, too?"

 

Zack crossed his arms, one elbow digging into Desperado's torso. "No, as a matter of fact." He sighed. "Now you've really ruined the atmosphere."

 

Desperado cocked his head. "Yeah, Suzuki will do that."

 

"I don't know, you're the only one here with me at the moment." Desperado took a risk and leaned closer to Zack. Zack sagged against him. He was so clingy tonight. Desperado wondered what he was feeling. 

 

"This is nice, isn't it?" Zack had a far away look in his eyes. 

 

"Yeah, it is," said Desperado noncommittally. 

 

Zack sat up and locked eyes with Desperado. Desperado stared blankly back. 

 

The door chime jingled as more customers entered the parlor. Zack got up from the booth and stretched, impressive with his tight skinny jeans. 

 

"Guess we shouldn't be taking space from anyone else, right?" Zack sounded tired. 

 

Desperado shrugged and got up as well. "Guess not."

 

It was nice to have gotten the chance to spend time with a friend like this. 

 

The two of them walked out into the cold together. When they got back into the crowd of commuters, Desperado held onto the edge of Zack's coat so as to make sure he didn't get lost on the way.

 

It felt almost as if Zack was already gone. Britain was a very large space for Desperado to cross. If only Zack would ask him to try. 

 

 

That night found Desperado back on his phone in the dark again. Nobu snored in the bed next to his, either uncaring or unaware. Zack was rooming with Taka this time. 

 

Zack was in Japan, right next door, but still Desperado stared at Hiromu's face on the screen. It was hard to justify, but it still felt more real. 

 

Hiromu laughed at him in his head and told him he was a fool, wearing a mask with teeth that would eat him alive. Desperado should put down his phone and turn it off and go to sleep. Or go talk to Zack in the next room over, said Hiromu. 

 

Desperado got up and walked to the door. 

 

Then he sat down against the frame and looked at his phone again. He shouldn't listen to Hiromu, in his head or in reality. He had frightening ideas, and he always lost anyway. 

 

There wasn't any point to listening. Not if you knew about consequences. 

 

So he began working on a post for social media instead, baring his soul like Hiromu always begged for in whispers. Insomnia was a trip. 

 

 

The next morning, Zack had to leave. Not even for another country, but for a show in another city. And Desperado had obligations that kept him here. So he watched Zack wave at him, and waved back. He didn't listen to Taichi talk as he got into the car next to Zack. He imagined he was on the train again, and Zack lay next to him, and they were in bed, and Zack loved him like he loved Zack. And all was well. 

 

Desperado slept. 

 

 

Later that day Desperado was halfway to the rehab center to visit Hiromu when he got a call from Zack.

 

"What's up, is something wrong?" Desperado immediately asked.

 

"Oh no, Despey, no," said Zack, happy and breezy. Desperado calmed down, but he was still somewhat puzzled. Hearing Zack's voice was always good, though. He didn't call often enough, and despite being awake during daytime in Britain, Desperado felt too nervous about letting Zack and possibly the rest of the gun know he was up that late to call then. "The show got finished early, I'm coming back to hang out with you and the gang this evening."

 

"Oh." Desperado could hit himself. Zack would be in town soon and he was already far out and being expected to stay awhile by somebody else. "That's great."

 

"Where are you right now?"

 

"Uh.. driving. Do you need me for some reason?" 

 

"And you're on the phone? No, I'm fine." Desperado could almost hear Zack shaking his head. 

 

"Don't mother me, it's off to the side," said Desperado. Zack was always too worried about his safety. 

 

"Well, I was going to tell you something, but I guess I'll wait until I see you later."

 

Desperado hadn't planned to be around the group that night. He wanted to put his head in his hands. "No, if it's not that big of a deal you can tell me now."

 

"Taichi and I are going to be partners for this Tag League tour." Oh. 

 

"Cool. Congratulations." Desperado supposed that increased the probability that Suzuki-gun would win World Tag League that year. For the first time. Nevermind that he and Nobu were in the finals of Junior Tag League and, well, held the belts for almost the longest reign of all time now. "Did you guys decide this on your own, or did the office tell you?" 

 

"Both, actually, funnily enough. Lady Luck must really be smiling down on us today. Or they're afraid having the Rev Pro tag title holders together will put Los Ingos in jeopardy. Who knows." Los Ingos... Zack probably wouldn't sound so happy if he knew where Desperado was going right now. Instead of turning around to be with Zack, he was still making his way to spend time with a man who mocked everything Zack stood for, and didn't support Desperado half as much as Zack did. But there were some things Zack just couldn’t give him. Desperado valued his friendship with Zack too much to ever ask him for half of what he demanded from Hiromu. 

 

"So, will you come get celebratory drinks with us when we arrive? I don't know what you're doing now, but you can be here in an hour, right?" 

 

Desperado doubted that, but he hated disappointing Zack. And he didn't want to say where he was going either. Even if Taichi already knew, which he probably did, and could tell Zack at any moment. 

 

"I'll try to be there, but I can't guarantee anything. I'm already out and about to help one of my friends with something." Desperado could see the miles on the signs ahead of him getting smaller and smaller in the direction of Hiromu's center. "I want to be with you, I do, just."

 

"You have another obligation. Yeah, I get it." 

 

They were both quiet for a moment. Little fizzy circles of tension crawled around Desperado's shoulders and chest. 

 

"Ha, Taichi says he's glad he didn't get partnered with Iizuka, apparently he's tried to eat his microphone stand to fuck with him before. I'm pleased to be avoiding all the low blows, myself." Desperado could hear Taichi grumbling somewhere in the background and Zack snickering through a retort. He wondered what they were talking about. Maybe Taichi was defending his virtuous tactics from Zack's accusations. Desperado wished he could be there with Zack. 

 

"Keep me posted on when you're done, okay? Even if it's late, I'll still save a drink for you." Something sharp and amused remained in Zack's tone as he finished talking. Desperado suppressed a shiver, hearing him from just the right place for it to seem like Zack was speaking from right beside him. 

 

Maybe Hiromu would have a drink for Desperado when he got there. He was unlikely to get what he wanted from Zack's, so it wouldn't hurt to have both. 

 

They exchanged their goodbyes, and Zack hung up. Desperado didn't understand how Taichi had been able to stay so quiet until the end of their call. Maybe he had to make sure Desperado sounded right taking the announcement of their partnership over the tour. Anything Desperado liked or loved was something Taichi made sure to keep on a leash in front of him. That’s what older brothers were like, he guessed. 

 

 

A few minutes later Desperado got out of his car and stood outside Hiromu's building, debating going inside. He could see Hiromu moving around, his bright hair pulled back and yet still wildly out of place. He was beautiful.

 

Hiromu’s back was still turned to Desperado, and with the way Desperado was standing in between the pillars of the building, he could stay out of view from the other side of the windows and slink away without Hiromu ever knowing he had been there.

 

It was a tempting thought. Zack was waiting for him. And a few hours with Zack would always be better than one drink late at night.

 

Okay, maybe this could work. Desperado would carefully get back in his car and pull out quietly, and Hiromu wouldn't notice a thing. Hiromu probably didn't even want to see him, and it honestly was healthier to avoid him. And Zack would be so pleased he came to see him again. A win-win.

 

Something large and fluffy slammed into Desperado's chest and wrapped itself around him. Desperado looked down and saw Hiromu, a wicked grin on his pretty lips. There really was no escaping him.

 

They stood together for a few minutes kissing. Hiromu’s hair tickled Desperado’s chin as he leaned in to nuzzle Desperado’s neck before pulling away. 

 

"Hello, Desperado," said Hiromu, voice low. "What brings you here?"

 

Desperado let his hands come around Hiromu's waist and trail upwards to splay against the line of his back. 

 

"You know what. I don't need to explain shit to you." He acts like he's going to push Hiromu off, increasing the pressure of his touch. Then he pulls Hiromu closer instead, flush against him and so, so soft. 

 

"Mm, yes. I hope insomnia's not contagious, I'm sure you'd hate to be setting back my recovery." Hiromu looked up at Desperado through his eyelashes. Just the tips of his fingers lingered over Desperado's skin. 

 

Hiromu dug his nails in savagely and grinned as Desperado pulled away with a start, cursing. 

 

"You don't have to actually go that far in your shitty roleplay!" 

 

"I'm hurt you don't see my affection for what it truly is." Hiromu gave him a dark, sweet look. "Are you going soft? I've yet to see you respond to a man you claim to be in love with with anything but violence."

 

"Oh, you want soft?" Desperado looked up from the pink half-moons Hiromu had left behind on his skin and bared his teeth. Hiromu scoffed. 

 

"No need to look tough on my account. Come in and get a drink, I still have things to do today." Hiromu’s expression was back to that infuriating shade of boredom he put on to frustrate hapless men like Desperado. 

 

Having been through this routine before, and thus knowing he could mostly trust Hiromu to act normally and non-threateningly at this stage in the game, Desperado followed Hiromu in and sat at a window while Hiromu fetched them beers. The room was a mix of sunlight and shadows befitting an early winter afternoon, making furniture, exercise equipment, and Hiromu’s trail of belongings turn strange colors. 

 

"Your rehab looks like it's been going well," Desperado commented as soon as Hiromu returned. He took a sip from his drink and watched Hiromu's throat as he did the same. He had a healthy, joyful flush to him that hadn't quite been present just a few months before. Good.

 

"It has," replied Hiromu. He had something like a wry smile after he said it. "Funny, someone else said that to me less than an hour ago."

 

"Bushi?" guessed Desperado. "Evil?" 

 

Hiromu shook his head, intently watching condensation drip down his bottle. 

 

"That British kid from CHAOS? The cat, Ospreay?" 

 

"No, someone better than that. Another foreigner. You know him."

 

"Oh, Lee." Of course. Desperado wondered if this injury had had the inadvertent side effect of bringing Lee and Hiromu closer together. That would be typical. "I hadn't realized he was still humouring you so much."

 

Hiromu ran a hand through his hair, bunching it in his fists. "I wouldn't say it's humouring. Though he does answer my calls more often.." 

 

"The two lovebirds are finally on the same page, huh?" Dragon Lee had been to visit a few times shortly after Hiromu’s injury. Desperado had expected that to be all once Lee was whisked away for his reality show, far removed from anything that could possibly remind him of Hiromu. But then, the few times he and Desperado had crossed paths, he had seemed genuinely distraught. Tecnico’s guilt. How cute. 

 

At last, Hiromu turned his full attention back to Desperado. "Jealous?" 

 

A year ago, absolutely. But now, he almost felt glad for Hiromu. He knew what it was like to chase someone too pure for you, who sent mixed signals and wanted to destroy you as much as give a polite hello. And Desperado had fallen deeper into another infatuation himself. 

 

"No," Desperado answered honestly. Hiromu gave him a skeptical look but Desperado didn't waver. "Seriously, congratulations. I'm curious how this happened, though. As long as I've known him Lee has never gotten close to anyone he considers morally beneath him." Now Desperado gave Hiromu his version of a violent, in-ring smile. 

 

Hiromu grinned back and shook his hair out of his face. "Guess I'm just that good then, huh?"

 

"Or he feels guilty and afraid of losing his fuck-buddy."

 

"We've only ever kissed, actually."

 

"He let you kiss him?" Wow. Maybe Hiromu really did have a chance with Lee, at least until Lee found someone purer and unapologetically dropped him. 

 

"I wouldn't say let. He was the one pulling me in half the time and petting me. Like this-" Hiromu stopped to briefly demonstrate Lee's apparent ministrations on himself. "And getting all firey and desperate. Except.” 

 

“Except?” Desperado prompted dutifully. 

 

“We didn’t get much farther, because he had to go out and wrestle a match. Disappointing.” Hiromu crawled forward, sitting down next to Desperado. “How far have you gotten with-” 

 

Desperado cut him off. “I thought we were talking about you and Lee.” Desperado really didn't need to talk about Zack with Hiromu right then. It would only get him mocked. It was much better to focus on who Hiromu was obsessing over instead, so he could be the one doing the mocking and shave off someone else's vulnerabilities. “You know, I’ve been thinking about Lee lately as well.”

 

“Oh?” Surprisingly Hiromu let him change the subject back without further comment. Desperado had expected to be wrangled into some sort of half-witting confession. Hiromu could usually tell what the biggest things on his mind were, whether or not they had anything to do with him.

 

"I've wanted to have something in the ring for you to see, to do something that you'll enjoy enough you have no choice but to come back to me."

 

"Right. And what does this have to do with my Lee?" Hiromu set down his drink and steepled his fingers.

 

Desperado leaned forward and grinned widely at Hiromu, showing all his teeth. “I’m going to take his mask for you. Show you, and the rest of the world, his handsome young face. And then I'll bring it back for you to touch. It can be a new years gift, to commemorate another year of our romance. I know you’ll love watching me do it, and you can keep it afterwards for your stuffed pets or something. What do you think?”

 

"I think he's as likely to take your mask from you as you are to take his." Hiromu's eyes flicked up to his, his lips glistening.

 

"How hurtful. You have no faith in me. Will you not accept a gift I want to give to you?"

 

"I'd accept it. Lee could use a few more blows to his ego. And I love seeing his face almost as much as I'm ambivalent seeing yours. But, I don't know if you have the strength in you. You did fail all your previous apuestas matches, after all. And you barely got the win against him this year." Hiromu let his hand lay on Desperado's face. Without really thinking about it, Desperado curved outward to match Hiromu's touch. He felt something building deep within his throat, though he couldn't identify what it was.

 

"Maybe you should come up with another idea for your gift," said Hiromu. Desperado wanted to kiss him, to bite his plump bottom lip hard in punishment for his doubt. Instead he let his hand come up to hover over Hiromu's, threatening to yank it down or hold it firmly in place.

 

"Do you have any suggestions, beloved? I want nothing more than to please you."

 

Hiromu closed his eyes and hummed as if imagining a pile of presents in wild colours piled high in front of him. "You'd like to put on a show for me? For before I get back, and take over again?"

 

"That's what I've said."

 

Hiromu's finger trailed down Desperado’s face as if to mimic a tear and then fell away to rest at his side. At that Desperado let his hand fall away too, almost in disappointment at Hiromu's inaction.

 

"I’m sick of watching you dance around Zack. That’s all you’ve done yet, isn’t it?" Hiromu blinked slowly, tone not inviting a reply. "Bring him back to me. Show me you have what it takes to finally win a man over with confidence. Slay your competitors-" Hiromu made a cut throat motion, his expression static and empty. "And bring their heads to me, too. Or let me watch you humiliate them, at least. I know you don't want to disappoint me." 

 

Desperado was tempted to say he didn’t have competitors to slay. Not when he wasn’t even in the competition. But that wouldn’t go over well. 

 

At last Hiromu settled back on the edge of his seat, comfortable and lazy as the cat he claimed to be. 

 

"I’ll think about it. But you know, I feel bad spending all this time focusing on me instead of you. Maybe I can help you get the attention of a special someone yourself?" drawled Desperado. 

 

While Hiromu had been going on and focusing on Desperado's reactions, Desperado had been snatching Hiromu’s phone from the ledge next to him. Now he held it in front of Hiromu's face mockingly, daring him to take it back. Hiromu already had it unlocked, so it was nothing to click onto his texting app and select Dragon Lee from his recent contacts. Nearly all the texts were, unsurprisingly, in Spanish. There was a truly excessive amount of various heart emojis around Lee's display name that froze Desperado for a few seconds. 

 

"What are you doing, Desperado." Hiromu looked mostly serious, but a part of him was clearly curious as to what Desperado was planning to do. Desperado didn't hesitate any longer and started typing in what he imagined was Hiromu's style. Above his drafted text was mostly little updates from Hiromu on the state of his pets, affectionate teasing, and cutesy photos from Lee on the set of his reality show. 

 

At last Desperado held up the screen in front of himself so that Hiromu could see what he had written. 

 

"What's this... 'you do know what neko means, right?'" Hiromu read aloud in Spanish. He frowned. 

 

Desperado shrugged. "You see what it says."

 

He hit send. Hiromu's eyes widened but he didn't move to stop him. Maybe this was something he had wanted to say all along, and Desperado was helping him by taking the choice away from him. 

 

"And now we wait. I wonder what Lee will think of it. Surely he's innocent enough not to know the other meaning of his beloved pet name?" 

 

Hiromu smiled at Desperado. "I think you're upset I never called you that." 

 

"Me? Why would I want you to call me a bottom? I'm the one who's dominated you in all of our matches, you receive it all, why would things be different in bed?" He always turned things back around on Desperado. What a brat. 

 

"You take things too literally. And so does Lee, actually. You both need to learn to lighten up and see things different ways. Maybe I was commenting on Ricochet and Ospreay’s high-flying athleticism."

 

Desperado gave Hiromu a withering look. "We both know you just wanted to fuck them. And you want Dragon Lee to fuck you, but he's deaf and innocent and doesn't want to, so you're stuck making jokes he doesn't understand." 

 

A notification buzzed on Hiromu's phone. They both looked down at it in Desperado's hand with a start. 

 

"Well, let's see which one of us is right. Maybe he does know what I've been saying all this time, or at least what you think I've been saying…" Hiromu trailed off in that irritatingly light tone of his. Luckily, Desperado was the one with the phone, and could withhold the message at will, at least for now. 

 

Desperado turned away to click on the phone and check for a response. It was, unfortunately, Dragon Lee as Hiromu had expected. He really did reply quickly-- another sign in Hiromu's favor. 

 

“That you're a mischievous cheater, like a kitty?” Desperado read the Spanish text aloud to Hiromu. “Hmm, I suppose he doesn't know. Maybe you should enlighten him.” He tossed the phone back to Hiromu.

 

"Hmm, maybe." Hiromu caught the phone and tucked it back into his pocket. "Does your windmill know what it means when you rub his shoulders and gaze up at him all lovingly?"

 

Hiromu was really going to get it one day. Desperado could feel defensiveness creeping into his tone. "All it means is that I'm a good friend and teammate, Hiromu. Maybe you're the one getting jealous if you're reading so much into a simple friendship."

 

As always, Hiromu read his face far more accurately than Desperado would have liked. And people wondered why he wore a mask to the ring beyond the aesthetics.

 

"You can't hide from me, Desperado. I'm not jealous. I'm merely pointing out facts that Zack-chan should be aware of. How else will you have your summer wedding if he can't even understand your vows?"

 

Desperado flinched and shook his head. His voice came out rough. "I thought I was marrying you. Maybe I should leave, if you're going to break my heart so." Couldn’t they just talk about Dragon Lee? 

 

"How can I marry you if you haven't proposed? But don't worry, I'll help you out with Zack-chan. Just hand over your phone and I'll do for you as you did for me."

 

Hiromu held out his hand, looking as deranged and pleased with himself as ever. Desperado wasn't handing over his phone, of course, and he hesitated to even get near Hiromu when he looked like that. 

 

"I don't have time for games like this." Desperado got up, preparing himself to go meet with Zack after all. He might be showing weakness in front of Hiromu by doing it, but it was probably worth it. 

 

"Why not?” Desperado inched closer to the door. “I didn't know you had any engagements today. What are they? Do you have a date? What will Zack-chan think?"

 

Desperado didn't answer quickly enough, and Hiromu stared, delight gradually washing over his face in the most disturbing way.

 

"Oh, you do have a date. And it's with him, isn't it?"

 

"Of course I don't have a fucking date with Zack. He doesn't look at me that way."

 

"How do you know if you've never asked? Go ask him, I want to know." Hiromu waved his hands at Desperado encouragingly. "Come on, this is entertaining for me. This can be your gift, the gift of a love story. He's in the area, isn't he?"

 

"Not for much longer," said Desperado, not sure why he was saying anything that could further encourage Hiromu's nonsense.

 

"Well then you had better get a move on, don't you?" Hiromu got up and started pushing Desperado towards the door, ignoring his snarls of annoyance.

 

Whatever. This was what Desperado had been aiming for anyway, so he still won, even if Hiromu was trying to co-opt his ideas like he had accomplished anything on his own. 

 

"He called me and asked me to hang out with him and the rest of the gun tonight -like good friends do, you know, you pervert- so yeah, I think I'll go do that instead of waiting around and watching you dance away from confessing to Lee, hmm?" Desperado turned away quickly, letting Hiromu's now light touch fall away. He waved cutely. "Hope you're able to be entertained without me." 

 

"Oh, I am. Do have a good time on your date, I'm counting on you." Hiromu waved back elaborately, now leaning against the wall of his building. "Goodbye."

 

Desperado didn't bother correcting Hiromu on whether the outing was a date before he pulled out. After all, it wasn't like he didn't wish that's what it was, and Hiromu could surely sense that from the red of his face alone. 

 

It was strange, the way his relationship with Hiromu worked now. He could show up at Hiromu's place for drinks and a chat and get accepted, could tease him and pass off advice on other relationships without feeling weird about it. Hiromu would always have an important place in his life, but by now he knew that a committed relationship wasn't necessarily something he wanted, or even something it was possible to acquire from Hiromu. Not when someone so much more comfortable and soothing and in tune with him existed within his own faction...

 

 

Desperado texted Zack to let him know he was back. Zack told him to show up in the parking lot of one of his regular haunts, mostly through links and emojis.

 

For a little while he lingered outside, tugging at his coat in the cold. Desperado could see several of his teammates’ cars. He decided that he didn’t need to drink that much tonight, especially with his training with the Boss happening so early the next morning.

 

The first thing Desperado saw when he walked in the door was Taichi, slumped at a table towards the front of the room with a handful of drinks, cheeks rosy and a band of fabric wrapped around his messy hair like he was a salaryman on a bender. From how drunk Taichi already looked, they might have been there for a good hour without him. Zack was next to him on his phone, attention caught on the screen, and Taichi looked at him almost forlornly as if having expected Zack to be engaging with him.

 

Zack glanced up absently and caught sight of Desperado, eyes widening and that soft look Desperado loved coming over his face. Desperado felt something shift in his chest.

 

Zack jumped up and was in front of Desperado in seconds, taking up most of his vision. “Hey! I almost thought you weren’t coming, but you’re here!” This much of Zack this quickly was overwhelming. 

 

“Hi,” replied Desperado, voice too scratchy. “I’m here.” His outing with Zack the night before felt like a decade ago.

 

Zack tugged him over to his table with Taichi, already ranting a mile-a-minute about something political that Desperado only half-understood. It was cute the way he’d stop occasionally to find the right word in Japanese and look to Desperado for reassurance he was listening. Desperado made sure to affirm Zack every time he paused. 

 

Soon Zack seemed to realize he had been going on for too long and the rest of the room came back into focus.

 

“So, you were able to help your friend? Hope everything’s alright with them. It’s a shame you couldn’t have come back earlier and hung out with us.”

 

“Yeah, I think so. They felt bad about me missing you, actually, they pushed me out the door early to get here.”

 

“Oh wow. What a good friend.”

 

“Eh. More of an acquaintance, I should have said.” Desperado decided to change the subject, not wanting to talk about Hiromu with Zack any longer than necessary, even if Zack didn’t know the subject of their conversation. “How was your day?”

 

“Oh, lovely. Taichi and I had a nice lunch before the show. Then we got to choke some guys out and spread the good word of fearing Suzuki’s army a little further, right Taichi?” 

 

Taichi looked up from his phone as soon as his name was spoken. 

 

“Yeah, Zack really taught those bastards a lesson.” Taichi blew a bubble of chewing gum. They were in a dark bar with strange, erratic lighting, and people swarming every which way, and yet Taichi wore his signature sunglasses in the indoor setting as always. “And we got a good feel for each other as a tag team. Honestly, I’m excited.”

 

Zack reached over to touch Taichi with a friendly smile. Taichi leaned into it, his mouth perhaps going upwards slightly but just as likely staying straight and apathetic. It was difficult to tell. “Aw, me too. We’re definitely winning this tournament, between how good you are and me.”

 

Archer plopped back down in his seat on the far side of the table pushed next to theirs, straight in their line of eyesight. Zack cringed.

 

“Well, one of us is definitely winning this tournament. Maybe we’ll get to meet in the finals,” said Zack. Taichi nodded and sipped his drink, gaze unreadable.

 

“Are you concerned about facing the rest of the family? We’ve avoided that entirely so far,” said Taichi. Zack cocked his head to the side, thinking. Desperado said nothing. The junior division never counted, even when you were that close to still being a part of it, apparently.

 

But it was true that the heavyweights in their faction had barely clashed at all since before the gun had formed. The Boss always talked so wistfully about the prospect. He seemed to see it as some grand destiny, a potential show of respect and technique and a passing down of ideals. While he could understand the Boss’s point of a view, as was always a necessity, Desperado saw it as more of a show of suppressed tensions. All it would take was one painful wrong move to create serious issues for everyone. But what did the New Japan office, or life, for that matter, care?

 

“I guess I’m maybe a little worried..” Zack finally answered. His gaze kept going back to where Archer was tapping away on the table in time to the hard rock playing from the overhead speakers. Desperado half expected Archer to get up and start head-banging at any moment, hitting the other customers with his greasy hair without a care in the world. 

 

Zack swivelled so his knees pressed against Desperado and made a joke he only half heard. Desperado smirked in response, watching Taichi stay still for a few moments before going back to his phone. Desperado still felt pensive. He brushed his hand across his open coat and then swung his arm around the chair.

 

There would be nothing stopping Archer from being rude during their Tag League match, or snapping Zack in half like a twig unless someone was quick enough to stop him. Sure, Archer seemed to have a genuine respect for Zack’s dominance in the ring. And Archer and Smith joked around with Zack in English and brought him little trinkets back from their events like he was their nephew.

 

But if a power vacuum opened in the gun and changed things, Desperado had no idea what would happen.

 

That was why Desperado was always watching them and the rest of the gun just as carefully as he watched wrestlers in other factions before his sparring sessions with the Boss. There was no telling what he might be forced to do one day. 

 

“Oh look, Despey, Taka and Suzuki are back!”

 

Taichi and Desperado exchanged a look as they watched Zack and Taka embrace each other. The Boss, standing behind them in his hat, looked on with faint amusement.

 

When they sat down again, Zack somehow ended up next to Taichi, while Desperado got pushed between Taka and the Boss. The Boss had taken Zack’s former place.

 

“Can you guess what I heard the office booked for us on the first day of Tag League?” asked Suzuki, in a deceptively light tone Desperado was all too familiar with.

 

Taichi scoffed. “Do I want to?”

 

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe we should make a bet.” Suzuki’s eyebrows raised. “Just kidding. It’s me, Iizuka, and Desperado versus you, Zack, and Kanemaru. Where is he, by the way?”

 

Zack shrugged. He almost bumped into Taichi with how much space Taichi was taking up, limbs all stretched out. “Nobu didn’t answer my call.”

 

“Probably already drunk on his own. Good thing you dodged that bullet with Desperado tonight, huh?” Suzuki turned his gaze to Desperado, eyes shiny. Desperado felt blood in his ears, fists clenching. 

 

“Hey, where did my drink go?” Zack interjected. Everyone turned to look at him, and then at Taichi, frozen next to him with the straw to his lips. “Hey!” Zack shoved at Taichi playfully and the Boss laughed. Taichi showed no signs of remorse, not even immediately handing back Zack’s glass.

 

“I thought we were sharing,” Taichi said innocently. Zack huffed. 

 

Suzuki called over Archer and Smith and soon nearly the whole gun was engaged together. Smith and Archer were, predictably, very excited about the upcoming tour, and not at all deterred by their upcoming match with the boss. They seemed to savour the opportunity to exchange strikes with him, usually only confined to challenging looks and fighting words.

 

It was a little strange how rarely the Boss sparred with anyone else but Desperado, considering how eager the rest of the gun seemed to be to take his place. Zack was listening in carefully now as Smith, Archer, and the Boss, with Taka doing a lot of translating for both sides, discussed their upcoming match. He looked so alive, watching as Smith brought up techniques he had used during his recent catch wrestling competition, and Suzuki quickly retorted with a half-formed list of counters to everything Smith brought up with a fond look on his face.

 

They didn’t allow Zack to just listen for long. 

 

“You’re pretty interested in our match, Zack, but what about the one David and I are having with you and Taichi? Sure you’re man enough to take us? Heavyweight enough?”

 

The whole table stopped to watch this exchange. Zack’s mouth tightened minutely. Desperado wondered how Zack would defend himself. He’d just sit back and watch, as was the Boss’s policy. 

 

“I was heavyweight enough to tap out Tanahashi, Naito, and Ibushi. Heavyweight enough to beat the people who got you two out in the first round of the New Japan Cup. So yeah, I think I’m man enough. The question is, are you?”

 

There was silence for a moment. Then glee rushed into Archer’s expression. 

 

Smith spoke up, staring at Zack with small, hard eyes.

 

“Listen, you’re right about all of that. You beat all those men, and I respect that. But don’t think for a second that your singles victories against guys that, frankly, barely make weight, mean a thing in a heavyweight tag tournament against the best of the best. Don’t take it personally, but what accomplishments do you have to show in New Japan like ours? Suzuki, yeah, he’s almost on our level in this area. But you? Taichi? Give me a break, Zack, and know where you belong." 

 

Zack’s posture stiffened. His expression was almost dazed. 

 

Desperado couldn’t leave Zack on this note, his position seeming tenuous and weak. He had to support him.

 

"You know if you're saying Zack hasn't accomplished anything, you're saying his titles with the Boss don't mean anything either, right? When we're taking over other companies again, you want to put their titles down like that? Watch who you're insulting - Zack's not the only one who's achieving things you haven't."

 

Smith and Archer took it all in, with help from Taka, and Archer just grinned and grinned. Suzuki’s eyes were wide, a very slight smile taking over his expression. It was terrifying, but Desperado kept his gaze firm. 

 

“I think I like you,” said Archer. “But don't forget. Everybody dies.” He looked intensely pleased. 

 

Suzuki barked out a laugh. “Zack, why don't you go with Taka and get us some more drinks.”

 

“Did he really just use his catchphrase in real life?” Zack muttered as he passed by Desperado. 

 

Soon Suzuki dragged them into some pub game, and thought it would be funny to put Desperado on the opposite team as Archer and Smith. 

 

Desperado tried to be unaggressive in opposing them, even as they goaded him with bangs of their fists on the table and odd howling cheers only Zack understood. 

 

Desperado had come looking forward to spending time with Zack. But every time Zack got close to him, Desperado couldn't help but think of Hiromu. 

 

He decided to leave while everyone was into a new game before he drank too much and did something he'd regret. 

 

 

Desperado was just turning the key in the lock of his car when he heard someone walk up behind him. He turned. It was Zack. 

 

“You were at Takahashi’s today, weren’t you?” Zack’s face was blank.

 

The gun had always hated LIJ. Even Zack had to confine his extra-factional friendships to the vaguely respectable CHAOS.

 

“Why do you think that?”

 

Zack put his hand on Desperado’s chest and tugged at his shirt collar. Then he removed it and held up-- oh. Hiromu’s hair. Fuck. How could he have been so careless?

 

Desperado decided honesty would be best. “Yeah, I was. What of it?”

 

“You said you were playing Takahashi. That he meant nothing to you. Now you’re hanging out outside of work like you’re buddies?” That had been what Desperado told the gun back during their summer feud. To be fair, he had even half-thought it was the truth.

 

“And I meant it. How do you know we weren’t fighting?”

 

“Fighting doesn’t leave marks like that.” Zack gestured to Desperado’s collarbone. Oh. He had seen the bruise, too.

 

Only, that wasn’t from Hiromu. It was from the Boss. Desperado felt naked. 

 

“Sure it does. Why do you care, Zack?”

 

“I’m just… worried that he’ll hurt you again.” Zack looked slightly guilty now. 

 

“He won’t. And even if he did, I can handle myself,” Desperado said dryly. 

 

Zack was quiet for a moment. “Why don’t you come back inside?”

 

“Why?” Desperado took a deep breath and then released it, watching it drift away in the cold air.

 

Zack shifted back and forth on the soles of his feet. “Well, so you can spend time with the rest of us, with your family.”

 

All Desperado had wanted Zack to say was ‘for me’. If that had been what Zack had said, he would have gone back inside right away and stayed as close to Zack as possible. But instead Zack had to show how little he knew about Desperado’s life, again.

 

Zack shivered. 

 

“Do you want my jacket?” said Desperado without thinking about it.

 

“Don’t you need it?” Zack looked at him strangely. Maybe he didn’t want to be wearing something that had been in contact with Hiromu.

 

“I have another one in the car.” Desperado didn’t, but he did have a shitty heater, which was better than what he knew Zack had.

 

“Alright.” Zack stepped even closer, waiting, looking at Desperado’s bloodshot eyes.

 

“Return it when you can, I guess.”

 

Desperado took his jacket off slowly and then pressed it into Zack’s hands. Beams from the neon lights sparkling in the bar window played across Zack’s features. Zack’s warm hands touched Desperado’s in between the jacket. 

 

“Thanks, mate,” Zack said quietly.

 

He put Desperado’s jacket on and held himself as he watched Desperado get into his car.

 

“See you in a couple days, yeah?” said Zack.

 

Desperado nodded and pulled out of the lot. He glanced back one last time and saw Zack still standing there alone before he drove away. And there was a figure in the doorway, a blonde.

 

 

Desperado was drunk, so he began to question things within a minute of leaving the bar. What would the others think, seeing Zack wearing his jacket? Did they notice Desperado enough to recognize it was his? This was a perfectly friendly thing to do, wasn’t it?

 

Desperado imagined Taichi getting upset and saying something ugly to him, hand on Zack’s head protectively once again.

 

Desperado was too drunk to care about eventualities like that. He never wanted to care.

 

He could justify it, too. Taichi might not even notice. Zack might say it was Taka’s jacket. A million things could happen. Desperado hoped Taichi would notice though. He had been too close to Zack for months. Images of Hiromu, and Hiromu again, circled through his mind with the street, and he felt so hot inside.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is a response to buckleupbabys work 'overwrought'. actually, the working title was 'rebuke', lol, because i felt so sad about how despy ended up in that fic. my friends and i had expected it to go one way after reading the first chapter and it completely swerved us. so, i decided to write my version of the fic, and have it go how i had expected it to. 
> 
> hopefully, this is unique enough to stand on its own, while at the same time doing its inspiration justice. 
> 
> i am extremely indebted to buckleupbaby, lamentomori, kadma, Imadeamistake, and many more authors who have taught me what i like to see in writing and greatly influenced my style. also, i cannot thank my friends in moonsault club, and my 'real life' friends, enough for always encouraging me to keep going and selflessly offering help during every step of the way. seb, thank you so much, i couldnt have finished this without you. anna, i appreciate you beyond words..thank you for always being here. 
> 
> this will probably update in a couple weeks. and there will maybe be four more chapters of about the same length. i have everything planned, if not yet completely written. please leave a comment and tell me your feelings, that is the lifeblood of my writing motivation! well, that and gifs of taichi scuttling, haha 
> 
> #becomedevitt


	2. mask off, mask on, we trick-or-treating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident with Zack in the parking lot, Desperado fears the worst. Luckily, Taichi is quick to text Desperado and make him feel heard.

 

Desperado woke up and saw a new message flash on his phone—a text from Taichi saying he wanted to talk to him about something, in person. The blue glow of his phone shut off by itself, leaving the room back in the darkness of shaded windows.

 

Desperado laid back down in bed. He let himself melt into the mattress for a moment, thinking despite himself, breathing slowly in and out. Zack was probably already on his flight back to Britain.

 

That didn’t mean he hadn’t said something to Taichi and the rest of the gun about Desperado’s visit with Hiromu.

 

Desperado shivered, remembering Zack’s fingers on his throat as Zack removed the strand of hair from his shirt collar.

 

After allowing himself a few more moments of rest, Desperado rose carefully and shuffled out of his bedroom. He began his morning routine, preparing to head to Taichi’s apartment. What a beautiful omen to start the day. He still had to spar with Suzuki.

 

 

 

Desperado almost wished he had his coat as he stood in the freezing air at Taichi’s doorstep and waited to be let inside. It was the best one he had at the moment and he had given to Zack. He didn’t regret sharing it though. The mental images of Zack holding it on the plane, or wearing it while walking down the streets of Britain, were as good as they were implausible.

 

What did Taichi want to talk about? It was probably just another mundane plan he needed grunt work for. Or maybe he wanted to confront Desperado about his visits with Hiromu. You never knew what Taichi would decide mattered. Maybe the whole gun was here, hidden around the home waiting to beat him for his weakness.

 

At last Taichi opened the door. He wore a loosely tied bathrobe. Taichi looked down at Desperado with a wry smile for a few moments before saying anything. “Hey, Despe.” He gestured for Desperado to come in.

 

The first thing Desperado noticed was that Taichi’s apartment was cleaner than normal. Taichi had many, many possessions. Someone had pushed them into neat piles where they usually lay misplaced or forgotten around the rooms. Taichi must have recently had someone special over to be making that kind of effort. As always, where Taichi’s belongings weren’t there to add personality, the home looked straight out of a decor catalogue, personality sucked out as if by effort.

 

Taichi’s apartment had become more comfortable over the years. The first handful of times Desperado had visited, it had felt like a mousetrap, but he was proud to think that now it was just another friend’s home he could hang out at. Still, the sheer amount of stuff around him made Desperado a little claustrophobic. The rooms were small, but the lighting was so dim he felt like he could get lost in them anyway.

 

Desperado’s stomach fluttered as he looked at Taichi’s neutral expression. Taichi stood just close enough to put him on edge. That kind of reaction was what happened when your future teammates beat you within an inch of your life during your first Best of the Super Juniors, Desperado supposed.

 

“So, what was it you wanted?” asked Desperado. There was no point in prolonging the inevitable.

 

“I had Zack over last night,” Taichi said casually.

 

What did that mean? The statement was so out of nowhere it made Desperado’s chest clench painfully tight. Still, there was no use begging off. He had to face anything that Taichi knew now head on.

 

The landline rang and Taichi went to take the call. Desperado wished he could just get this over with. Although it couldn’t be too serious if Taichi hadn’t insulted him yet—maybe Desperado had some hope.

 

Desperado felt his eyes wander as he waited. The buzz of a computer filled in over the silence.

 

Then he stopped. There was his coat from the night before, tucked into the cushions of Taichi’s sofa, all innocuous like someone in the house owned it. Desperado had a sinking feeling. 

 

Taichi returned and ripped it out from the sofa. He had such a weird smile.

 

“Sorry about that. He didn’t have time to visit you this morning, so he asked me to give it to you.” Taichi thrust the jacket forward at Desperado. After a second of hesitation Desperado took it.

 

The image of Zack with his coat in the airport faded away. Zack probably had another jacket in his luggage, anyway, so there was no way he needed to keep Desperado’s for his trip back.

 

He could have, though. Desperado hadn’t expected it back that quickly.

 

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” said Desperado, feeling limp. There was too much stuff piled in this room, even if it was cleaner than usual. Desperado didn’t know where to look but directly at Taichi, barely moving, hard to track.

 

“Did you and Zack have a fight yesterday?” said Taichi, sudden and tactless. Not that Desperado was complaining—at least he was open about what he was thinking.

 

“Eh. Just a little one,” said Desperado, knowing better than to completely lie. 

 

“He had some interesting things to say before I put him to bed. And you were the last one with him.” Desperado didn’t know where his mind should go, other than an imagined view of Zack with Taichi in his room late at night, head rested on Taichi’s bare chest as words flowed from him.

 

Desperado had to focus on damage control.

 

“What did Zack tell you?”

 

“Well, okay, nothing really. I had to guess.” Why was Taichi always so fucking vague? “But he was pretty upset. I didn’t understand all of it, he’d say things in English and then refuse to translate.” Taichi shrugged.

 

Desperado had made Zack feel like that. Now Desperado felt terrible. “Did he seem upset with me?” Desperado asked, words coming out in a rush. Fuck, this was embarrassing. At least he could always brush it off as being afraid Zack would ambush him or something.

 

“Hmm… I don’t know. I’d say so, and I’d like to say I’m around him enough to know him pretty well.” Taichi hummed. “Maybe just let him chill out for a week and see what happens. I’ll keep an eye on him for you.”

 

Desperado guessed Taichi didn’t know about his… thing with Hiromu, after all. There was no reason for Taichi not to lord it over him if he knew, so he probably didn’t. Taichi was just concerned for him, like a teammate should be. Or, at least, concerned for Zack.

 

Taichi flicked his hair out of his face and made eye contact with Desperado. “Look, whatever you were fighting about, I’m sure Zack still wants to be your friend.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I just hate when there’s any conflict between us.”

 

“You know you can be open with me, right?” said Taichi. Of course Taichi couldn’t stand being ignorant of anything in their lives. But Desperado sure wasn’t letting that moment with Zack out without a fight.

 

“I am being open with you,” Desperado replied, tone questioning.

 

Taichi patted him on the arm briefly. 

 

“Well, if there was a fight, I’d hate for it to continue. Maybe this is a stretch, but I don’t want anything upsetting Zack enough to distract him during Tag League. You won’t let that happen, right?” Taichi looked at Desperado inquisitively until Desperado nodded back. “And... I know things are fine, now, but I was a little worried for you, Despe. You feel close to Zack, right?”

 

“You could say that.” Desperado wasn’t sure if it went both ways, but. Taichi hadn’t asked for that.

 

Taichi looked pleased. “Well, I want you to be happy. Family shouldn’t quarrel with each other. I’ll try to include you during this tour, so you’ll have plenty of time to make things up to him.”

 

“Alright,” said Desperado. “Thanks.” He wasn’t sure how that would feel, being pushed next to Zack and Taichi’s partnership. Hopefully Zack would get over his annoyance soon, and Desperado could earn some of his smiles with whatever time with Zack he was given.

 

“Ah, you have sparring with the Boss today, don’t you? No need to beg off, just go home,” said Taichi, something like a laugh in his tone. “Take care of yourself.”

 

All Desperado could think about as he left was that Zack had chosen Taichi to go home with that night. It was probably just to get used to living as a tag-team. The idea of it itched at Desperado anyway.

 

 

 

Zack returned to Japan in time for the next team dinner. He and Desperado ended up next to each other while waiting to be seated at the restaurant. The crowd that filled up the small entrance room was loud enough they had to stand close together to understand each other. On one side of Desperado was the golden wood of the wall fixtures, and on the other was Zack, looking comfortable in his sweater despite the various strangers a few centimeters from bumping into him.

 

Desperado had both dreaded and longed for interaction with Zack. He was a little nervous about how Zack’s reaction might change in the sober light of day. Zack didn’t like to text, but still Desperado had been checking for messages from him for days. Part of him wanted to grab Zack and apologize immediately, but that would send the wrong message. Taichi had said to give him space, so that was what Desperado had done until now, when he had no choice but to do the opposite.

 

“...Thanks for getting my jacket back so quickly,” said Desperado. His leg brushed against Zack’s, so Zack moved back to accommodate him.

 

“Of course.” Zack ran his fingers through his hair. It was soft and loose, not spiked stiff with gel like it usually was when Zack went out. “You’re not angry with me for the other night, are you?”

 

Sure, he had been annoyed, but Desperado wasn’t angry with Zack at all. He had showed he cared about Desperado’s well-being, even if he had been too aggressive in showing it. If it had been anyone else in the gun, Desperado could have been screwed, and he probably would have accepted that they were the one who should have been angry with him. It was unusual how gracious Zack was being. Actually, if it were anyone else Desperado would assume Zack was biding his time for when he could really teach Desperado a lesson.  
“No, you were right to be surprised. Upset, even. I don’t regret anything I’ve done with Hiromu, but I understand you. He is our enemy.” Desperado paused. “Just, maybe be chiller about it next time.”

 

“Our enemy…?” said Zack, sounding bemused, though his whole posture had relaxed. Desperado supposed it didn’t count for much given Hiromu was a junior, unlikely to ever cause trouble for Zack, but it was still true. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Even if he’s one of our opponents, Hiromu still matters to you. So I’m sorry I got on your case. You’re an adult. You can spend time with who you want.” 

 

Zack looked away. He was probably still feeling uncomfortable that Desperado had kept such a big secret from him. Desperado felt bad, but that was just how their world worked. 

 

“So we’re good, then?” asked Desperado.

 

“Yes. We’re good,” Zack repeated.

 

Desperado wanted to lean forward to do something—hug, handshake, anything. But they both just kind of stood there until Zack thought to punch him in the shoulder and point out something on the menu to break the tension. It was just as well. Desperado didn’t want to be talking about Hiromu.

 

Soon Taichi appeared behind Zack recommending some fruity drink, and then they were seated and separated enough to prevent any real conversation from happening. Desperado tried to make a few jokes and compliments towards Zack from time to time, but there was a subdued air around him as they ate that kept him from reacting as enthusiastically to Desperado as he usually did.

 

Desperado tried to assume it didn’t have anything to do with him. The mess with Hiromu was probably just a small plate on an already large pile of difficulties Zack was going through.

 

Still, he needed to do his best to remove what pressure he could. He hated talking about Hiromu, but if being open about him was what Zack needed to feel comfortable around Desperado, he would do it.

 

 

 

A couple of days before World Tag League, the gun piled into Suzuki’s compound to train for the upcoming tour.

 

Or, most of the gun did, anyway. Iizuka wasn’t in the mood for training at that moment, and Desperado had to keep an eye on him.

 

It wasn’t that Iizuka was like an animal or a child, unable to understand what he should and should not do. Iizuka fully understood what was going on around him, and made sure they all knew it. That didn’t mean he particularly cared about their boundaries. Iizuka only half-listened to them on the best of days, and though he obeyed the Boss, he usually chose to fuck around and mess things up to amuse himself rather than fit into any logical order. He reminded Desperado of Zack’s friend Chuckie—someone who had been hurt too many times to think much about anything anymore.

 

Sometimes they had to chain Iizuka up. He got in a mood, and then couldn’t get out of it when he was supposed to, still energized and struggling like there was an unsubdued opponent in front of him instead of Taka with his dinner.

 

For now Desperado sat at the table with Iizuka and Taka playing card games. He and Taka watched as Iizuka puzzled over his next move. Iizuka’s cards were arranged in a fan that covered his face. Harsh beams from the overhead lights broke through the natural darkness that came from being underground and illuminated Desperado’s surroundings, making it almost as if the compound was in black and white rather than the rest of the world’s color.

 

Meanwhile, the Boss was adjusting Smith’s form in one of the training rings. In another on the opposite side of the room, Zack and Taichi were giggling and making fun of other wrestlers more than practicing tag team maneuvers like they were supposed to. Nobu was doing reps by himself. Archer was… Desperado didn’t know where Archer was, as usual. And in the midst of it all, Taka and Desperado were doing their best to keep Iizuka engaged. The Boss liked to have them together as a group in his compound like this whenever they could manage it.

 

Desperado spotted Zack and Taichi making their way over before Taka and Iizuka did. Zack waved at Desperado as soon as he caught his eye. It was cute. Desperado waved back.

 

“Hey Desperado,” said Taichi with an incline of his head, “so we were thinking, it’s not very productive to do this with just the two of us.”

 

“It’d be better if we had someone real to practice on,” said Zack, slinging an arm around Taichi. He had barely broken a sweat despite all their time practicing. “Imaginary opponents are a drag, want to sub in?”

 

Desperado should have politely declined and said he needed to attend to his duties towards Iizuka. But they all knew Desperado had been slacking in that area for a while now. And he couldn’t beg off when Zack was looking at him like that, like he wanted Desperado with him.

 

Iizuka huffed. “Go on Desperado. If you won’t give my game your full attention I don’t want you playing it.”

 

Taka gave Desperado a thumbs-up under the table. Iizuka shook his head and refocused on his cards.

 

Desperado laid his hand down and followed Zack and Taichi to the training ring. He stripped off his shirt and stepped through the ropes when Taichi held them open for him obligingly.

 

Zack lounged against the turnbuckle, watching.

 

“Guess I’ll start, and then you come in to break it up when you see an opening, okay?” said Taichi.

 

Zack nodded, eyes narrowing.

 

“Hmm, don’t think I’m going to be able to get these off,” said Taichi, fingering his track pants. “Maybe if I get some help?”

 

He winked at Desperado. Desperado scowled at him.

 

“This isn’t a proper match, you’ll be fine,” said Zack.

 

Taichi made a doubtful face and shrugged. He put his hands on his hips as he began circling inside the ring. Desperado followed as he deliberated over his first move.

 

Taichi extended an arm to suggest a lock-up, and Desperado did too before taking a chance and swiftly chopping at Taichi’s exposed chest. Taichi winced, caught briefly off guard, and then kicked him in the thigh. Desperado chopped him again with more force, and then ran to the ropes to launch himself at Taichi. Only, Taichi caught him, and tried to bring Desperado’s leg over his head in a shitty imitation of Desperado’s stretch muffler.

 

Desperado could feel Taichi’s head pushing up against him. Desperado struggled out of Taichi’s grip, calves aching. Taichi barely kept the hold on, and fell to the floor, kicking at Desperado’s head. But Desperado kept moving, and in a few seconds he found himself transitioning into Hiromu’s choke.

 

He only had time to look up and check for Zack for a second before Zack barrelled into him, freeing Taichi from the choke. Taichi crawled off the mat up to the ropes, where Zack tagged him with a clasp of hands. He returned to Desperado, kicking at his side lightly until Desperado stood up to face him.

 

“You should have been using a heavyweight’s submissions,” said Zack, stepping up close to Desperado. “It’s no good using Hiromu’s when Taichi and I won’t have to wrestle him.”

 

“I did it on instinct,” said Desperado, “And anyway, don’t you want to be prepared for anything? What if he comes back and interferes?” Zack rolled his eyes and muttered something in English that Desperado wished he could understand. He grabbed Desperado’s shoulder and wrapped around him in a submission, then another, and another. It was dizzying.

 

“He has a point,” Taichi said behind them. “You can never really know.”

 

Zack grunted, kicking Desperado’s same leg that Taichi had been targeting a minute ago. He tried for a leg sweep which Desperado avoided, then snatched Desperado’s arm and turned around quickly, twisting it.

 

Zack walked Desperado over to the corner and tagged in Taichi, still holding onto Desperado, and watched as Taichi kicked him firmly in the gut.

 

Desperado fell back into a sitting position against the turnbuckle. Taichi stood over Desperado, examining him. His face took up more than half of Desperado’s vision, eyes much too large and wide.

 

“I’ve got this, Zack,” said Taichi. He kicked Desperado again. Taichi cracked a smile at the gasp of breath Desperado let out. “Stay down.”

 

Zack finally let go of Desperado. “Yeah, alright. I trust you.”

 

Desperado barely held back a wince. At least Taichi had never given Zack a real reason to doubt him. Desperado couldn’t avoid noticing that there was still a tentativeness in Zack when he was around him, especially during the rare times they were alone.

 

Taichi ended up dragging Desperado to the center of the ring. Then he urged Desperado to get up and hit him squarely in the jaw with his buzzsaw kick. Desperado fell back, dazed. He hated how weak he must have looked, but that was what happened when you were fighting without a partner. Zack came back in to spike Desperado with a PK, and the fight continued on from there.

 

The sparring came to a standstill as soon as Zack locked Desperado into his octopus hold. As Desperado inched agonizingly forward towards the ropes for a break, he stared at the hard black line of the microphone stand lying on the floor across from him. He knew it was good to focus on something to take his mind off the pain, and here was this—tall and proud as Zack, the stand seemed as if it was waiting for a figure to pick it up and crunch it over someone’s skull.

 

Taichi came up behind them and started hitting Desperado with Kawato kicks just as he reached the ropes. Desperado lay on the ground after shaking off Zack, and Taichi just kept kicking him in rhythm.

 

Desperado watched as Zack smiled strangely at Taichi and placed a hand on Taichi’s chest. Desperado was supposed to be keeping an eye out on everyone, but he had been distracted by the way Zack was touching Taichi all day. Seeing it this brazen and close to him was making him feel bubbling hot inside.

 

Taichi slowly returned Zack’s look. Finally, his kicks petered off.

 

“Should I go take out Desperado’s partner for you?” said Taichi. brushing his hands together.

 

“Sure,” said Zack. Taichi rolled out of the ring and held onto the turnbuckle like it was a wrestler’s torso.

 

Now Zack had his full attention on Desperado. That was enough to break Desperado’s stupor.

 

Desperado got up and launched himself in a spear at Zack, startling a yell out of him. Soon they were grappling, then their bodies were twined together painfully on the mat, and then Zack tried to catch Desperado in a perfectly bridged roll-up.

 

Desperado didn’t fall for it, and flipped around until he was laying over top of Zack, both of them panting, Desperado balanced precariously on their clasped hands.

 

Zack’s eyes were half-lidded, his eyelashes so long, and Desperado would barely have to move at all to kiss him. As he was staring at Zack’s mouth, a thin line of red welled up on Zack’s cheek.

 

“There’s. A cut on your face, Zack,” said Desperado, voice rough from exertion.

 

There was a clang from outside the ring. Taichi slid in next to them. Desperado cringed and got off of Zack.

 

“We can stop now, if you want,” said Desperado, rubbing his head. 

 

“Fine by me,” said Taichi. “Well, I think it’s safe to say we won.” Taichi tapped the mat one, two, three times like he was a referee, an annoyingly smug look on his face.

 

Zack snorted. “Did we? Desperado never tapped.” He skimmed his thumb over his cheek, smearing the blood slightly. “Guess I’ll go get a cloth.” 

 

Taichi pulled out his phone from somewhere and tapped at it while Zack rummaged through his bag on the ground outside the ring. The microphone stand lay next to Zack’s leg, now half-hidden under the ring apron.

 

Within a minute Zack’s music started playing from the tinny speakers of Taichi’s phone.

 

“Are you going to get Red Shoes to come raise my hand next?” said Zack. He was struggling to affix a bandage to his cheek, fingers sliding over it wrong. Desperado gave in to himself and got out of the ring to help Zack. Zack handed him the bandage, and Desperado kneeled down next to him.

 

Someone’s shoe bumped into the back of his thigh.

 

“Excuse me,” said Archer, in plain Japanese.

 

Desperado twisted around to look at him, and followed his eyes along to Zack’s face, which was still bleeding heavily. Archer’s nostrils were flared, lending him an appearance almost close to that of the Boss. 

 

Archer said something about Suzuki to Zack in English, and Zack nodded and replied, face now closed off. 

 

Zack’s music kept playing as Archer walked away. It was an awkward combination.

 

Desperado relaxed his posture and applied Zack’s bandage with as careful a touch as he could manage.

 

As rough as Archer was with everyone, it was hard not to think he would have been more polite if he had bumped into the Boss rather than Zack.

 

“What did he say?” asked Desperado.

 

“Uh… mostly that he was going over to be with Smith and Suzuki. He wasn’t very polite about it.”

 

“No surprise there,” said Taichi. “How polite were you?”

 

“Eh.” Zack paused, probably deciding how best to word his response. “I gave back much the same attitude, but I’m not sure he took it that way.”

 

“Scary,” said Taichi. “It’s a good thing the Boss has him under control.”

 

Desperado didn’t doubt that. For all of KES’s bluster and strength as a tag-team, they could never outmaneuver the Boss. Still, it was never ideal to live under chains, no matter how beneficial they might be. The upcoming little civil wars of World Tag League weighed heavily on Desperado’s mind. He was sure Zack was thinking the same way.

 

 

 

Desperado and the Boss were the last ones in the locker room before they had to go out with Iizuka against Nobu, Smith, and Archer on the first night of Tag League.

 

“Desperado,” said Suzuki, winding up his wrist tape, “don’t think too hard during our match tonight.”

 

“Boss?” said Desperado.

 

“I don’t want you using any of the techniques for bigger opponents we’ve worked on. Now’s not the time. Just throw yourself at them, and let me do the rest.”

 

Afterwards, when they were back in the locker room with Iizuka after a fresh win, and Nobu was outside with a drink, Suzuki offered some explanation.

 

“There’s going to come a time when you will need to fight them. To prove you can stand up to them. To prove you can command them. Now is not that time. I don’t want them distracted by you during this tournament.”

 

Suzuki smiled, eyes like the headlights of an oncoming car on a midnight road in an anime scene.

 

“Save all this anger. Save the techniques, too, but most of all, save the real bit of fear and the flood of resentment they push on you deep within your heart. It’ll be of use to you one day, and I can’t wait to see it. Things won’t stay like this forever.”

 

Desperado didn’t respond. The Boss wouldn’t like that, and he didn’t know what to say.

 

There was something in his heart that longed for a day when he could get close to killing KES for how they had treated him, for how they treated all juniors. But KES were his brothers. And even if the rest of the gun didn’t see a problem with killing family, Desperado did. The values of a rudo didn’t always come out in the views of Japanese heels, and Desperado knew that all too well.

 

All he could do was wake up in the morning and forget about this talk, restore himself to the pure state of normality, and hold that small bit of resentment close to his heart, waiting to be unleashed when the Boss commanded it.

 

 

 

The doldrums rolled on.

 

 

 

Desperado watched Zack and Taichi’s matches on the monitor in the back every night.

 

Their styles complimented each other so well. And then there was the way they moved in unison, with stereo PKs, bandwagon shoulder tackles, hands thrown up in exasperation, and everything in-between. They whispered and snickered in each other’s ears, palms cupped over their mouths, even as they were standing together on the body of another wrestler.

 

On the first night, Zack patted Taichi on the ass, and helped him walk out of the arena even though Desperado knew Taichi was fine to go on his own. Desperado imagined himself in place of one of their opponents, lying there dazed and sweating as he watched them leave him behind without a second glance back.

 

“Go, go, go!” Earlier on, Zack encouraged Taichi to go for the pin in naturally flowing English, and held their other opponent back, trusting Taichi to get the job done for him, without feeling the need to interfere and take control away. How nice. Not everyone would believe in Taichi like that.

 

Just like not everyone believed in Desperado like that. Except, seemingly, Zack, who had shown that same trust towards Desperado during their partnership in the G1. Desperado had glowed under it, unaware of how soon this wonderful thing he had earned would slip away and leave him alone again. He had thought he was special, and now Taichi was filling his old role, erasing any individuality left in Desperado’s interactions with Zack until all that remained was Zack’s bizarre goodwill. It was pointless and sickening that he thought this way, but he couldn’t erase the ideas from his mind.

 

All he could do was hope it wouldn’t go on like this forever, but something in the way they looked at each other told him Taichi wouldn’t let go of Zack for a long, long time.

 

As usual, Desperado didn’t interact much with Nobu while they sat together in the locker room. Nobu had commented that he felt like was seeing Zack and Taichi less and less now, which was weird. Otherwise, it was a blur, and Desperado was basically alone. He wanted to go pick a fight with Yoh or something, go wander the halls and break some teeth, but he couldn’t, not with orders to stay inside, study the matches, and wait for more orders.

 

By night two Desperado was already fantasizing about the long absence from view he could enjoy throughout the next month of touring. He could slip in to do his training with Suzuki, lurk in their room in case he’s needed like the Boss had ordered him to, and then leave having barely had to show his face to anyone.

 

Desperado knew he wasn’t going to do that. Zack was around for more than an entire month, and there was no way he was giving up any time with Zack if he could avoid it. Someone would have to rip it out of his hands.

 

 

 

Zack liked vegetables, so they went out to eat at a place that served vegetables. Desperado was in front of the fireplace next to Nobu, while Taichi and Zack sat across from them. Desperado took his coat off, then put it back on again a minute later. He couldn’t get to a comfortable temperature.

 

Before they had ordered, Desperado turned to Nobu.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to go off on our own? Everyone will be happier that way.” They both watched as Zack and Taichi chatted, in their own world separate from their friends yet again

 

“No, I don’t want to cause a scene. Things will go back to normal after Tag League is over.”

 

And that was that. Desperado couldn’t order Nobu to leave, even if he knew it would make Nobu feel better. Usually Nobu and Taichi spent nights like these joking together, or even Nobu and Zack would tell old NOAH stories that had everyone amused, but not now. If only the Boss cared enough to say something about this. Then maybe things would change.

 

There was pretty plant insignia all over the restaurant. Desperado started counting all the leaves he could see, because if he didn’t distract himself somehow, he would have to watch as Taichi’s arm went around Zack’s waist, and Zack used his fork to break off little bits of his meal and fed them to Taichi.

 

“Open wide,” said Zack. Taichi leaned forward to close his lips around the fork.

 

He chewed satisfiedly, grinning with a flash of his eyes, chin tilted up afterwards.

 

Desperado took off his coat again.

 

He should have made an excuse not to be there and gone to hang out with some other friends that knew nothing about wrestling.

 

It would be easy. Desperado wanted a hot-pot. He wanted beef. They didn’t serve that at vegan restaurants.

 

Though, more than any of that, he wanted Hiromu. Tonight Zack’s gaze darted towards Desperado occasionally, but Hiromu were here, he would stare at him, leaving no mystery around what he wanted.

 

Desperado almost left, but then Zack asked where he was going. He knew he had nowhere to go, so he pretended he was just looking for the restroom.

 

When Desperado came back Zack focused in on him a little, asked if he was enjoying his pseudo-holiday. Desperado shrugged. Zack suggested they all go out to karaoke. Desperado wasn’t interested.

 

Taichi charmed the waiter into telling him the best desserts, and soon enough they came out, smelling wonderful and deadly, too full of sugar to be healthy. They had pie that left Zack’s lips and tongue bright red with cherry.

 

The night went on, an endless merry-go-round. Visages of the fire sizzling behind Desperado reflected in Taichi’s eyes whenever he looked at him. 

 

 

 

The faces of the cameras pressed in insistently in the backstage comments area, snapping, as Zack leaned in close to Taichi and drawled on in sarcastic sounding English, seemingly oblivious to the crowd of onlookers.

 

Desperado lingered in the next hallway, waiting for Zack to leave so he could offer him a water bottle.

 

He was tempted to go in, but he didn‘t want to detract attention away from them, nor did he trust himself not to let something bad show on his face with Zack all over Taichi right in front of him.

 

There was no way Taichi wouldn’t pick up on it and mock him. That was just how visible weakness was dealt with, like pruning off the dead parts off of a decorative tree.

 

And now they were coming down the hallway. They hadn’t seen him yet. Taichi said something to Zack as he unzipped the top of Zack’s jacket for him, revealing just a sliver of neck. Zack said something back, and touched Taichi on the waist, then quickly moved his hand up to Taichi’s shoulder.

 

They couldn’t stop touching each other. And then Desperado caught Zack’s eye and the two of them start walking towards him faster.

 

“Oh, hey.” Taichi took his arm off from around Zack and slid over to Desperado, bumping shoulders with him. “You bring these for us? Thanks.”

 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Desperado let Taichi take one of the water bottles from him and Taichi smiled gratefully.

 

Zack took the other water bottle from Desperado and downed it. Desperado tried not to stare.

 

He cleared his throat. “Nice going out there, Zack.”

 

“Don’t forget about Taichi. We both got the win.” Zack rubbed at Taichi’s shoulder. “Fuck all those guys, you’re definitely built like a heavyweight.”

 

Taichi shook his head at Zack, almost looking like he wanted to scold him despite clearly enjoying Zack’s praise. “No, don’t shift attention away from yourself. You got the pin, remember?”

 

“The middle fingers were a nice touch,” Desperado added. They had been, Desperado had laughed seeing them again on the monitor. He kind-of been hoping to talk to Zack alone, but he shouldn’t have expected that. Usually Taichi was quick to go off on his own after matches like this, but things seemed to be different now that he had Zack as a partner.

 

“Ah, yeah. It’s a good way to get the win. And it’s what they deserve. We’re having fun.” Zack looked down. He really seemed happy, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

“We’re having fun,” Taichi agreed. “Vegetables?”

 

“Fine, vegetables. But you’re taking me out to the discotec soon, I promise you.”

 

“I’m sure I will.” Taichi held his fist out for a bump from Zack, who took it, grinning.

 

Suddenly Desperado felt exhausted. He had been watching them for a while now, and he was starting to think he couldn’t be against something that was making Zack this happy. Even if it was Taichi. He just had to… be quieter. Know his place, support Zack in this new partnership. Right.

 

 

 

Another night, Desperado sat with Nobu on a sidewalk bench outside the latest bar. It was late, and there were few people on the street despite being in the usually bustling city. They hadn’t started drinking yet, but truthfully Desperado was already feeling slightly ill. Maybe it was the cold that had kept smarter people than Desperado inside and off the street.

 

Taichi was next to them. He stood directly under the lamplight, features shadowed heavily. Several sets of arms stretched beyond him as he wandered around.

 

Then Taichi stopped, head looming large over the street. A beetle had emerged on the edge of the curb in front of him.

 

Taichi stamped on it, shoe coming down again and again even after the beetle’s body was splattered across cement. Desperado glanced at Nobu to see his reaction, but he seemed unmoved.

 

An ant crawled across a berry on the bush behind their bench. Desperado saw it before Taichi. For a moment, it lived.

 

Taichi crushed it in between two fingers, red juice spewing over his skin before he wiped it off on a leaf.

 

As if pleased at his win, Taichi chuckled, voice muffled under his black facemask. He stopped for a while to examine his palm. Desperado had a little more time to relax.

 

There wasn’t much else to do, so Desperado kept watching Taichi kill bugs for a while. There was an odd giddiness to him after every success, like how Desperado would feel after catching a fish, or how Zack looked every time he trapped his struggling opponents in particularly twisty submissions.

 

Zack wouldn’t like it if he saw Taichi doing this.

 

Taichi threw one arm up on the lamp post as if he were posing for a photoshoot in his facemask and hood.

 

“Hey, sorry for taking so long,” called Zack, approaching from the other side of the street. He was finally back. “You ready to party?”

 

Taichi let Zack lead him inside, glancing back at Nobu and Desperado, eyes glinting, before the door closed behind him. Desperado opened it again and followed Nobu, thoughts of bugs unforgotten.

 

He watched as Zack and Taichi danced, Zack enthusiastically, Taichi cool and muted, arms brushing over and over under the strobe lights. Desperado melted into the whirling crowd, feeling small.

 

 

 

Desperado tried to wake up early to stay conditioned, and Zack tended to get up fairly early as well, so they caught each other at breakfast one morning in the hotel while Taichi was still asleep. Desperado had so little time with Zack during this tour, and even less time with him alone, so he intended to savour this moment he had found.

 

“By looking at your Instagram I learn all the vocabulary I need for the things I don’t want to be eating. Post more romantic things or talk about wrestling, that’s much more enjoyable to look at,” said Zack. They stood together next to a table that held all the drinks. Zack clutched his hot tea close to his chest, content to mock Desperado as he waited for it to cool.

 

Desperado decided not to comment on Zack’s mention of ‘romantic things’. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he was talking about his gestures for Hiromu with Zack, even more so now that Zack was apparently happy to see them. “We both know you learned all of that a long time ago. And I don’t run my social media for other people, I run it for me.”

 

“Well, would you be willing to help me improve mine?”

 

“Eh? What do you have in mind?” Zack’s social media was sparse, though entertaining when Desperado could understand it. Desperado would definitely be glad to see him posting more in Japanese, so he was happy to help.

 

Though, he supposed there wasn’t much he wouldn’t be happy to help Zack with. Thankfully nobody seemed to notice, but it was pathetic, even for Desperado.

 

Zack gave him an odd smile and stepped closer to him to avoid passing strangers leaving the breakfast room. His hair was loose and still untouched by product, and Desperado wanted to run his fingers through it.

 

“I want to know how to say handsome, but like, stronger?”

 

Why the fuck did Zack need to know that.

 

“I get the vibe I’ve been thinking of the wrong word this whole time. They one they’ve used to subtitle my comments... it’s more in the popular guy sense, not the sense I mean. Too clean-cut for the people I’m talking about, definitely.”

 

“What sense do you mean?” Desperado fought to keep his face blank.

 

“Sexy. Distracting. But in a roguish way.” Zack grinned at him. Desperado went back in his memory for the times Zack had called someone handsome. That was what he had meant, huh? There was Sanada, and Ibushi, for sure. He had good taste in men.

 

He had never said that about Desperado.

 

Desperado told him a couple of Japanese words that would work, red ears protected by his loose hair, and Zack repeated them back to him. Zack licked his lips. Desperado’s stomach churned. It almost sounded like Zack meant them, but he was just practicing.

 

“Yeah, you got it,” said Desperado. Unfortunately, he knew he would be re-imagining this moment for weeks.

 

“Do you want something in return?” said Zack, something like a challenge in his expression.

 

Desperado wanted a lot of things from Zack. He wanted Zack there to support him in everything, whether he was facing the gun’s distant condescension or the preview tag matches of Best of the Super Juniors, and he wanted to be allowed to support Zack in turn. At the moment, he wanted to take Zack’s tea, set it down, and wrap his arms around Zack’s waist, put his hands up under Zack’s sweater and feel the soft skin at the small of his back. He wanted Zack to tug him closer and not let go.

 

But he couldn’t ask for any of that. This whole thing was just another one of Zack’s subtle jokes. The only thing Desperado could do was keep the joke going. Hopefully Zack would be amused, even if Desperado was too invested for that himself.

 

“How about you teach me something,” said Desperado, voice low in a parody of the way he spoke to his significant opponents. “I want to know how to say… I get lost in your eyes.”

 

He shouldn’t have said that, but he really thought Zack’s eyes were impossibly complex and beautiful. Zack’s eyes widened in front of him, and Desperado thought so even more.

 

Luckily, this was cheesy enough it fit with the joke. Sincerity was like that sometimes.

 

Zack sipped at his tea, thinking for a moment, and then told him a phrase in English. He repeated it a few times, voice clear, and corrected Desperado gently until he got it right. It was nice, even if Desperado doubted he would ever use what he had just learned.

 

“It sounds better, when you’re the one saying it.” Zack said finally. Zack stood close to him, mist from the tea he held tightly with the sleeve of his sweater wafting up between their faces.

 

Desperado looked at him quizzically. He couldn’t pronounce English as well as any of the speakers he knew, or even like the Boss could.

 

“I don’t know, it sounds better to me. You have a pleasant voice,” said Zack, after some hesitation. Desperado wasn’t sure whether he believed that. “I’m not mocking your accent. I feel the same way when you speak Japanese.”

 

Desperado swallowed. Well, people had commented that he sounded like a voice actor before. It probably meant nothing that Zack thought the same way.

 

“It’s strange… I keep expecting to see your contacts, and then I look at you, like just now, and obviously I see you’re not wearing them,” said Zack, quiet. “It’s nice. Being able to see your eyes and know more of what you’re thinking. You know?”

 

That was exactly why Desperado wore his contacts, so people would know less of what he was thinking. Well, and to be intimidating. Desperado started to panic. What did Zack mean, know more of what he’s thinking? What did Zack think he was seeing on Desperado’s face? Had he seen through Desperado when he had tried to continue the joke?

 

“I don’t... quite know what you mean, Zack.” Desperado hoped he could recover from this.

 

Zack wouldn’t meet his eyes, now. “You don’t show much emotion, through your contacts. Okay, it’s bloody difficult to tell what you’re thinking sometimes. But less so, right now, on account of being able to see you.”

 

That didn’t answer any of his questions. Would Desperado have to be more direct? He was painfully conscious of how close their hands were. Maybe he could just reach over and take Zack’s hand. Maybe that was what Zack had thought he had seen in Desperado, what he wanted Desperado to do. And if not, well, it was all a joke and Desperado had his answer.

 

“Ooh, what are we talking about?” Taichi’s voice broke through the moment. He sidled up behind Zack, shirt buttoned low as always.

 

So Taichi wasn’t still asleep.

 

“Oh, just how much of an utter villain Despey is. He makes his eyes white just to frighten us, doesn’t he?” Zack’s expression had completely changed, now filled with a mirth that Desperado had to imagine was forced.

 

“That’s the only reason,” Desperado said evenly. He felt like he was in some twisted backstage comment.

 

“Should I try that? Zack, would I look good in contacts?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know… that’s a bit far…”

 

And Taichi had gotten Zack to switch focus already. They were turned towards each other like Desperado wasn’t there.

 

Something dense and hot lodged itself in the bottom of Desperado’s stomach. The rest of the conversation fell away and became white noise.

 

He was probably just hungry. Desperado would go get sausages or something now that Zack was distracted.

 

 

 

The fans thought it was cute, huh?

 

They noticed the way Zack touched Taichi in the ring and in the comments? They noticed how unusually considerate Taichi was with Zack? The fans noticed the way Zack and Taichi acted perfectly in sync, the way they communicated without even using words, the way they only had eyes for each other?

 

Because Desperado sure didn’t need their help to notice.

 

 

 

Murder “besties”, Zack had said. That was what the fans had called them.

 

Nobody said much about Desperado and Zack anymore. How could they? The two of them barely interacted on-screen.

 

Desperado still remembered the general response to their partnership during the G1. Moreso, he remembered how Zack had treated him, like he was valuable, Zack grabbing him by the fringe and pulling him in close, laying an arm over his shoulder and appreciating every small gesture Desperado gave him.

 

But that was long over. Now all anyone could think about was the amazing connection between Taichi and Zack.

 

Desperado scrolled through Twitter, looking through the tweets where Zack and Taichi mentioned each other. It felt pathetic, but what else was he supposed to do?

 

He saw the compliments. The teasing. The emojis. He saw the photos. He saw them out drinking alone together, like he already knew they did.

 

He saw the replies, too.

 

The fans… wanted Zack and Taichi to be a couple.

 

They thought they looked cute together, that they were an ideal image of romance.

 

Apparently Taichi loved Zack and all his sneakiness, in the strongest sense possible, and fit with him perfectly as if they were made for each other.

 

Given their win streak… given how much closer they already were when the cameras were off… given the gut-wrenching way Zack’s arm curled around Taichi’s waist when Desperado was right in front of them… maybe the fans were right.

 

Desperado just hoped it wouldn’t ruin their friendship.

 

 

 

It all got to be too much sometimes. Taka had found a restaurant down the street from the hotel that Taichi had been itching to take Zack to for the past several hours. Desperado didn’t want to go.

 

They walked out to dinner without him, maybe expecting him to follow them there.

 

He didn’t. He couldn’t take it anymore.

 

Desperado ended up at his old teacher’s house. It was welcoming, but it had the overwhelming musty smell of almonds, and strange, ugly decorations with cutesy pastel animals on them lining what little furniture was there.

 

Desperado was left almost alone with several bottles of alcohol at his disposal.

 

Naturally, he put on old Hiromu matches.

 

He could admit he missed Hiromu, now. Not in any romantic sense, necessarily, but in the way you missed someone who would let you talk at them for hours, who would talk at you for hours, for whom everything was natural and known. For all of Hiromu’s games, he was always somebody Desperado could understand.

 

And he was off in fucking Mexico with Lee, impossibly inaccessible. Desperado had no way of privately contacting Hiromu, nevermind seeing him.

 

So, despite knowing better even in his drunken state, Desperado wrote a post on Instagram for Hiromu instead.

 

It was the middle of the night for Japan, but not Mexico. Hiromu might respond right away.

 

Or he might not see it at all.

 

Soon Desperado didn’t really care. Being able to say something at all was cathartic.

 

A timer ticked down on the tv. Desperado looked away before the screen exploded.

 

 

 

Desperado woke up in a strange place. Little animals bared their teeth at him from every angle. Was this the part of the compound he had never seen? Was he being trapped, was this a punishment? Even if he had done something terrible, maybe Shelton would take pity on him and let him out.

 

Wait, Shelton had left them. Who else would free him?

 

Desperado got up, still confused, vision hazy and jumbled, and went through to the first open door he saw. It was a bathroom. Desperado wrenched on the faucet handle and let water pool in his hands under it. His hands were swollen and lumpy. Desperado was glad he didn’t have a match, he didn’t want his hands to look bad in front of the fans. Wait, did he have a match? Had he been drinking? He probably had. Maybe that wasn’t all he had done. The pounding in his head and the strong bitterness in the back of his throat said yes, but you never knew.

 

Desperado tried another door and walked through the rooms, tracing the different belongings. He thought he saw someone crying in the mirror, maybe the Virgin, but it could have just been him.

 

Oh, Desperado knew the person in a lot of these photos. It was his old teacher. This was probably his house. Desperado didn’t remember coming here, but it made sense.

 

After he found a recliner and laid on that for a while, everything from the night before came back. He had to go on commentary tonight and provoke the other juniors during their match. Desperado took out his phone and tweeted out about it, just in case someone cared.

 

Apparently Taka did. After his teacher woke up and gave him a couple pills, Desperado got into Taka’s car, which had been hovering there waiting for him.

 

“I told Zack about what happened last night, I hope you don’t mind,” said Taka as he drove.

 

This was the price Desperado paid for accepting Taka’s help. It was nice, getting a ride and a hangover cure from someone willing to pretend everything was normal. But Desperado shouldn’t have forgotten how intertwined they all were. Now Zack might be upset with him. And Taichi might think something needed to be done about it.

 

“It’s fine,” said Desperado, though he was sure his tone implied it wasn’t.

 

 

 

It was a beautiful night when Desperado came to do commentary for World Tag League. He hadn’t felt so alive in weeks. His embarrassing morning was practically a decade ago. Getting to provoke LIJ and Roppongi 3K like that after so many nothing days trapped in the locker room felt fresh as a blanket of fog blowing in from the sea. Priceless, but costing no money, and so comforting. Something he could hold in and keep to himself, without getting it snatched away by the Boss.

 

The thrill of potential violence was almost as comforting as the way Zack had come up to him during his match. Desperado could almost forget about the way Zack and Taichi had clutched each other after their win when he thought about how Zack had lit up as soon as he saw Desperado, how Zack had chosen to go over and acknowledge him and share his moment. It was sweet, and such a Zack thing to do, something none of the other members of Suzuki-gun would have even thought of. It felt good to be seen by someone, especially when it was someone as incredible as Zack.

 

Desperado saw Zack almost as soon as he left the commentary desk and went backstage. As sweaty and worn-out as he was, Zack looked keyed up like he was ready for another match, or maybe some other physical activity.

 

“Congratulations,” said Desperado finally. He had been staring for too long. Zack’s mouth was very pink and very wet.

 

“Right back at you.” Zack smiled crookedly. He was leaning awkwardly against the wall, limbs folded up and weak. Desperado wanted to hold him up.

 

“What for?” Desperado hadn’t wrestled tonight, nevermind won a match. And commentating wasn’t something to be especially proud of.

 

“I watched you and the other juniors on the monitor. Nice going, getting the boy band geeks and the wannabe goths all riled up in one sitting. You make it look effortless, I’m afraid for my job.”

 

Of course this was what Zack appreciated. Zack’s teasing tone made Desperado feel cool and clear, like he was biting into a cartoon popsicle.

 

“Oh, don’t be afraid. Even reading subtitles I can tell you infuriate them.” Desperado went back and watched pretty much everyone’s comments, but he paid particular attention to Zack’s. They were so entertaining.

 

“Thank you, Despey” said Zack, almost cooing. “It was cute, the way Rocky ran at you.”

 

“The expression on Milano’s face was priceless.” Desperado sighed exaggeratedly. “Though I had been hoping he would get hit more. Next time, I suppose.”

 

“Oh. What did he look like, after Taichi and I won?” Zack’s eyes shone at that, just like twin headlights.

 

Desperado bared all of his teeth, smug. “Devastated. Like a wilted rose. Almost as bad as Evil.”

 

“Ha. Bad. Evil.” Zack snickered. “I don’t feel sorry, he deserved it. It’s what he gets for being a poser, at least everything you do has a sensible origin.” That was true. Desperado got his gear designs and names from parts of his culture back home, not some daytime television horror movie.

 

That was when Bushi appeared alone strolling down the hall. They should have left for the locker room from the beginning and not had this conversation out in the open where other factions could reach them. Then again, this was a chance to finally beat the shit out of someone, and Desperado was itching for at least a good insult.

 

“Oi, Bushi!” growled Desperado. Bushi stopped to look at him, disdain clear in his curled lip. “Can’t believe I had to see all your stupid over-masks again on Zack’s night. You don’t have a handle on your identity, huh? Gotta cover yourself with a pile of masks, can’t decide on just one?” Desperado scoffed. “You’re not a real luchador.”

 

“At least I actually try to keep my main masks on my face. If you think your title alone can give you pride, you’re sorely mistaken.”

 

Desperado just laughed at him.

 

“I don’t know how Hiromu can stand being around you.” Bushi took his hand off his hip and started walking away again.

 

“He can’t!” Desperado called after him, but Bushi wasn’t listening.

 

Oh, Zack probably hadn’t understood any of that. Was it confusion Desperado was seeing on his face? Zack had paused, almost frozen, eyes darting back and forth between Desperado and Bushi’s retreating figure.

 

“Where were you last night?” said Zack suddenly. Desperado’s blood ran cold. Not this again.

 

“I thought Taka told you.”

 

“Yeah. Well. I should shower.” Zack’s body was angled away from him. “I feel gross, I’ve got to run. Talk to you later.”

 

Yeah, okay. Zack realized this now, after he had seen a member of LIJ, and not earlier before he had met up with Desperado, or even during their conversation? Desperado didn’t want to assume Zack was lying, but this was Suzuki-gun, where lame excuses were usually more of a rule than an exception.

 

“Talk to you later,” mumbled Desperado, deciding to keep his thoughts to himself.

 

Zack smiled tightly at him and left.

 

Where was all of Zack’s excitement over his victory from before? Maybe his adrenaline was finally wearing off, and pain was setting in. This was fine, Desperado would just talk to Zack again later after he showered. For now, he imagined the crunch of Bushi’s jaw against his fist, and the scratchy rip of Bushi’s mask coming apart under Desperado’s yanking fingers. Hiromu would be so pleased. 

 

 

 

“Why are those bastards taking so long in the showers?” complained Nobu.

 

Most of the gun sat together in the locker room long after the show had finished and the commentary teams had packed up for the night. Zack and Taichi had been gone in the showers for an awfully long time.

 

“Must be Taichi’s hair care routine,” said Taka, laughing.

 

“Oi, you’re one to talk Taka! He doesn’t use much more bleach than you.”

 

Desperado could think of other reasons, but he shoved them down as deep as they could go in his mind and told himself he was wrong until the words rung in his head, like the drone of a glitching computer, or the hard beat of footfalls in a battle march.

 

“Desperado, go check on Zack and Taichi. I don’t care if they’re fucking in there, I want them out soon,” said the Boss.

 

Desperado shoved down the resulting intrusive thoughts as soon as they came. Why would the Boss say that? All he had seen them do was grope each other a little. Worms crawled around in Desperado’s stomach. He did his best to refocus and gauge the rest of the gun’s reactions.

 

“I hope they aren’t, that’s unsanitary. But I honestly wouldn’t put it past them, would you?” Nobu turned to get confirmation from someone. Taka shook his head emphatically.

 

“No, I can definitely see them doing that,” said Taka. “Oh, the risk too. What if someone walked in on them? Scary.”

 

“They should at least let me know if they’re not coming to dinner.” Suzuki returned to scrolling Instagram.

 

Desperado ignored Archer’s wide eyes and left the room without commenting. He wasn’t sure he could keep his voice emotionless enough to get past the Boss with the image of Zack and Taichi together in the showers now strong in his mind.

 

They wouldn’t do that, right? Desperado knew they both were comfortable in their sexualities, but… when you combined that with their close partnership, things looked a little weird.

 

Steam enveloped Desperado as soon as he stepped into the shower room. Line of stall after stall spanned out in front of him, a faint light blue glow all that was visible of what they did and didn’t contain. There was a faint dripping noise—at first it seemed to come from everywhere, going half in time with the too-loud beating of his heart.

 

Desperado started down the long path of the room, confused by the quiet he was faced with.

 

He glanced at the first few shower stalls. An odd feeling of anticipation rose in Desperado’s chest.

 

There was no sign of a person behind them.

 

He continued on, flip-flops slapping against the tiled floor.

 

The dripping got louder.

 

“Zack, are you in there? Taichi?”

 

No one answered. The next few stalls were empty, supplies hung up neatly.

 

“The Boss is waiting for you! He wants to go to dinner! Are you coming?”

 

Silence, other than the dripping, getting louder. Desperado went past the next few stalls. He imagined Zack and Taichi hiding, pressed close together in the corner of a stall, not moving to protect themselves from being heard by Desperado. It was ridiculous.

 

Desperado came to a stop at one stall towards the end of the path. He saw that its vine-printed curtain was wrinkled and pushed halfway open.

 

He stepped into the blue glow. Desperado knew where the dripping had come from now.

 

Someone had carelessly left this shower head just the tiniest bit on. Desperado crouched to turn it off, getting his wrists damp. Next to the shower head, the communal supplies had been haphazardly thrown back in their containers. Water ran down the wall like rivulets budding on the spine of someone’s back.

 

Desperado wondered what had happened here. He supposed it didn’t matter. It wasn’t his problem, but something still prickled under his skin. If they had been together, and things got passionate, and they left in a rush….

 

Desperado focused on the smell of cleaning products and the wet fabric of his shirt.

 

Well, no matter what had happened before Desperado had gotten in, he knew that Taichi and Zack had left without the gun.

 

They hadn’t bothered to say anything. They had just left. It didn’t make sense. They knew what the expectations were. Sure, Zack probably thought the Boss would let him get away with it, but...

 

The image of Taichi and Zack entwined rose unbidden in Desperado’s head again and he clamped down on it as hard as he could, thinking of drills and potential dangers and everything else he used to avoid unhelpful thoughts. More than unhelpful thoughts.

 

It was difficult. Too difficult. Desperado had thought he was better than this, but apparently not. As long as he didn’t think of it around Taichi, he would probably be fine—still irrationally hurt, but safe, and that was what was important.

 

Desperado needed to go tell the Boss quickly, or he‘d be annoyed that Desperado had made him sit idle even longer. Getting upset would have to wait.

 

 

 

All there was in the world was this: Desperado, Suzuki, and the strikes. At first the strikes pushed you back, but they were deceptively slow to pain, so you kept coming for more. It was then that they piled on, like fiery brands, and you couldn’t help but sling strikes back, possessed with an animalistic need for retaliation.

 

They had gone through many rounds of sparring so far. Desperado had lost count. Suzuki had worked on Desperado getting out of the same submission over and over and over again until Desperado’s knees were weak from trying to stand up.

 

Another strike. Desperado had spent too long thinking. He had a sudden sense memory of Suzuki’s boot flying over his face, just barely missing him in its pursuit of the wrestler who held him.

 

He didn’t want to stand up anymore.

 

Suzuki’s arm hovered at his side like a loaded gun, cocked back and ready to release.

 

Desperado grabbed Suzuki just as he moved his arm and wrenched it out of the way, then threw his legs around Suzuki’s waist and yanked him down to the mat. He hit Suzuki in the head once and then twice, again and again, until he even looked winded, mouth shaky and open in a circle.

 

But Suzuki was still struggling, testing Desperado with squirms and jabs. Desperado was smart enough to change position every time he lost leverage, except…

 

“Good thinking, but that’s not enough.”

 

The Boss scrambled out of Desperado’s hold, now over top of his back, and ripped his arms back hard, so he was extended like a cross. And before he knew it, he was being positioned for the Gotch-style piledriver, and fuck there was Zack walking into the room gesturing at Rocky Romero.

 

Desperado scratched at Suzuki’s thighs, desperately trying to escape before Zack could see him humiliated. He felt a burst of strength, and somehow he was able to push hard enough to make Suzuki stumble—the perfect opening for the Angel de Rojo, his sunset flip power bomb. He felt dizzy and good, slamming the Boss onto the mat.

 

Normally, he would go for an arm bar or something at this point, but he wanted to go support Zack. Desperado looked at the Boss, then at Zack, then at the Boss again. The Boss smiled at whatever English taunts Zack was using on Romero and nodded. They fist-bumped, and then Desperado slid out of the ring to stand behind Zack, leering forward at Romero. Between Desperado’s white contacts and Zack’s sharp smile, he knew they made a terrifying pair. It was lovely.

 

“You commentators sure are nosy. Like a bunch of gossiping schoolchildren, aren’t you?” drawled Zack. He was speaking in slow Japanese now, perhaps to include Desperado. It gave Desperado a thrill. “Maybe we should fix that. What do you think, Desperado?”

 

“As honorable wrestlers, it’s only right we help the commentary team that works so hard for us,” Desperado replied, voice rough.

 

“You know those hotpots you like that I can’t eat? Just this once, I’ll make an exception, because we’re going to chop up Romero here and use that as the base this time.”

 

“You’re all crazy!” said Romero, voice raised indignantly as he looked back and forth at the two of them. “Iizuka’s not the only one, you’re all crazy!”

 

Desperado shrugged. “Sounds reasonable.” He rolled his eyes back to look at Zack, who gave him a soft smile.

 

Then Zack lunged forward at Romero, who made a high noise and moved backward. He looked ready to fight, fists clenched, but behind him were his fellow English commentators, who pulled him away with hushed words and ushered him down the hall and away.

 

Zack kissed him on the cheek in gratitude afterwards. It barely lasted for a second, but it still sent a pleasurable shock through Desperado. Only through practiced discipline was Desperado able to keep himself from reacting.

 

Suzuki and Zack unceremoniously grabbed and began submitting a pair of young lions after Zack and Desperado returned to the training ring. They worked in tandem, slipping arms and legs around in agonizing combinations, until they got bored and threw the young lions out of the ring, laughing.

 

“There are many ways to learn. Watching is one. Pain is better.” That was what the Boss always said. They attacked the young lions to encourage their heart and their potential, not just out of malice or petty revenge for the miserable dojos of the past.

 

“He’s harsh with them, but he’s only doing them a favour,” Zack said to no one in particular. He sounded like he was repeating something he heard from Taichi.

 

It was all true. When you’re in enough pain, you start to forget where you are and become someone else. Perfect, when someone wants to train the next generation of soldiers.

 

Desperado felt like he had a body full of pop rocks standing in front of Zack and the Boss as they chatted. It was strange that Zack was here now, right around when their training ended. Zack had never visited during training before. Desperado wondered what had motivated him to come this time.

 

“What brings you here Zack?” The Boss spoke pleasantly as he threw his shoulders back against the ropes. Desperado was glad the Boss was here to ask Zack instead of him.

 

“I was just walking around and thought I’d stop by,” replied Zack, Japanese pristine and polite. 

 

“Don’t be afraid. I know you want to talk to Desperado.” Desperado held himself back from scoffing. The Boss loved to fuck with them like this.

 

“Well. Yes, I do. But it’s nice seeing you too, Mr. Boss,” Zack said, more cheekily this time.

 

“You saw me an hour ago. Go talk with him.” The Boss sighed. “I was finished with him for now anyway, so go ahead. You had great timing.”

 

“I try my best.” Zack fist-bumped the Boss, one arm coming around him quickly in almost a hug, before he grabbed Desperado by his elbow pad and lead him away.

 

Desperado kept his back straight as they walked out. He was in a lot of pain, but he did not touch his chest. The Boss was watching him, and the potential consequences of showing weakness, of being a victim instead of a partner, were far worse than this momentary suffering. As good a Boss as he was, Suzuki was like a snake. If he saw you as prey, he’d snap you up and swallow you whole, and laugh as you struggled to survive your slow digestion.

 

“Fuck, it hurts,” slurred Desperado as soon as they were alone. He remembered Zack might not understand him and continued in a clearer tone: “He really did a number on my chest.”

 

“Look at these marks…” said Zack, peering down at Desperado’s torso, which was covered in ugly pink slashes from the Boss’s strikes. “Should I find you something to put on this?”

 

“No, I’m fine.” Desperado had packed supplies, anticipating what the Boss would do to him, but they were back in the locker room with Nobu. And Nobu would laugh if he caught Desperado admitting weakness by letting Zack help him.

 

“Suzuki didn’t hold back, did he?” Zack frowned.

 

“No, he didn’t, but I’m glad. This way I’ll be prepared to do just as much or more damage to Takagi this January.”

 

“That’s true… it’s pathetic you have to deal with him and Bushi too, the office fucked up.”

 

“Yeah, well, Nobu’s just happy to fight him. Which is understandable, Takagi is shitty in every way.” Desperado slumped down on the bench.

 

Zack sat down next to him. “You would rather face Hiromu?”

 

“Oh yeah, easily. Takagi is a shitty replacement for Hiromu. Almost anyone would be, how can you replicate his breed of crazy? But, Takagi specifically feels like an insult to everything Hiromu stands for, with his boring promos, and his gym teacher tracksuits. Then again, if there’s anything Hiromu stands for its Naito, and no one ever accused him of having a flair for the aesthetic.”

 

Zack giggled and clenched his teeth, cringing.

 

“He’s got the face of a scoundrel, too. People like to compare him to a horse, but the dragon nickname is more fitting,” continued Desperado. Zack had encouraged him along as he talked with short huffs and affirmations. Every positive reaction he got out of Zack strengthened him, made him feel wittier and brighter.

 

“No wonder he wants to steal your gold,” said Zack after a moment, smirking.

 

“Do you think he’d pull a Yano?” Desperado would never forget when Yano just waltzed out with the heavyweight tag titles and stole a Wrestle Kingdom match. It was amazing what faces could get away with.

 

“Nah, he’s too proud for that. He’d hide them in the basement of the LIJ funhouse with his other stolen accolades,” said Zack. Desperado loved how facetious his tone got in times like these.

 

“Alright, we could dig a tunnel under the gun warehouse until we reach the funhouse and retrieve the titles that way.”

 

“Oh, but we couldn’t stop there! Imagine the embarrassment! We could expose them as frauds forever!” Zack looked a little too excited by the prospect of LIJ’s demise. “Or at least steal some of Bushi’s stuff and give it to the poor.” 

 

“I don’t know, I’m feeling charitable. Stick with the stealing. We should do them a favour and confiscate Sanada’s hair dye.”

 

Zack snickered at that. “You’re one to talk! Look what you’ve done to this fried blonde monstrosity you call hair.”

 

“My hair is very stylish. Unlike Taka’s weird bangs, since you’ve made this personal.” Of course Zack would defend Sanada’s hair. Everyone seemed to have a crush on him, no matter his style choices.

 

“That’s low-hanging fruit. Shame on you, you rogue. Okay, let’s ban hair dye entirely then. The whole world can go natural.”

 

Desperado whistled low. “Poor Taichi.”

 

“An unfortunate casualty to be sure.”

 

“You like his hair?”

 

“I suppose. Not as much as Ibushi’s. Or Sanada’s, his old hair I should say.” It was too bad Taichi wasn’t there to hear this.

 

“Mm.” Desperado was trying to hold back and not take any of this seriously, but he couldn’t resist asking one thing. “So you really think I should stop bleaching my hair?”

 

“No. Maybe. I don’t know,” said Zack. He played with Desperado’s towel absently. “You look good, Despey, don’t worry about it. I just hope you’re not damaging your hair irreparably.”

 

“I’m not. It doesn’t matter.”

 

“Anyway, you’re fine, but Sanada could use a good shaving. Think we can do it without waking him?”

 

“How creepy! Zack, that is not upstanding behaviour befitting of Suzuki-gun! Shame on you!”

 

“Okay, living horror film.”

 

They went on like that for a while. It was so good, and so bad, because Desperado couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he couldn’t talk to Zack like this again. They had already been cut off once the night Desperado had done commentary. Who knew how many times that would happen in the future before Zack gave up and stuck with his tag partner.

 

“We should hang out together outside of work again, sometime soon,” Zack said as they were cleaning up to leave.

 

“Yeah. We should.”

 

Desperado wasn’t going to stop wanting that. He wasn’t sure about Zack. Partnering with Taichi long enough could change a person forever.

 

 

 

The next day, there wasn’t a show. Desperado got a call from Taichi while he was resting at home.

 

“Hey, I wanted to hang out with someone tonight, but everyone seems to be busy. Are you free to come over?”

 

Desperado knew exactly what that felt like. He wasn’t really in the mood for Taichi, but when was he ever? It was only right to come and support him. They were family, and Taichi hadn’t treated him badly in a long time.

 

So he decided to go to Taichi’s. It couldn’t hurt to raise Taichi’s good will for him, anyway. It was just a night of beer and video games.

 

 

 

Desperado wondered if he was dreaming when Zack opened the door of Taichi’s apartment that night.

 

“Hey,” said Zack. He sounded strained, almost a little breathless. They stared at each other for a few moments. Zack looked nice in his dress shirt—had he come here from some kind of event?

 

Zack looked down first, allowing Desperado to check his watch. It worked perfectly. Okay, this wasn’t a dream.

 

Zack had probably thought it would only be him and Taichi, not knowing that Taichi had invited others in the same way Desperado hadn’t known Zack would be there. Well, even if it was the right thing to do, it was too late to leave now.

 

“You coming in?” Yeah, Zack definitely sounded off. Desperado would do his best to bow out early without making things awkward.

 

“Uh, yeah. Hi. Guess you’re free tonight, huh?” Desperado finally stepped into the warmth of the apartment, and after a second of hesitation (this was the opposite of what he had been expecting when he agreed to come tonight), toed off his shoes and took off his coat.

 

“Ah, yeah. I wanted to hang out, I don’t know what Taichi told you. Do you want me to get that?” Zack was already reaching out for Desperado’s coat. How polite—it was almost as if Desperado wasn’t just Taichi’s guest, but Zack’s, too.

 

“Just don’t steal it,” joked Desperado, remembering how quickly Zack had returned it before. If only he could find Taichi—this would be a great chance to talk to him alone for a second and ask him why the plans for tonight had changed. Taichi’s closet was a notoriously full death trap that would be sure to take up a couple minutes of Zack’s time.

 

The door to the bedroom flew open. There was Taichi, hair brushed back, wearing nothing but sweatpants and a thin English t-shirt that Desperado couldn’t read. The sleeve of Desperado’s coat brushed Taichi as Zack passed him.

 

“You didn’t tell me Zack was coming,” whispered Desperado.

 

“What, is that a problem? He turned out not to be busy, I couldn’t predict that.” Taichi pulled at his shirt, trying to get it to lay comfortably. “Isn’t it the more the merrier? Zack is good, he’ll make this a proper evening instead of two sad bastards guzzling beers.”

 

“No, I’m happy to see him. It’s just a surprise.” Desperado wasn’t sure if he needed to be in Taichi’s house with Zack late at night, but he was probably being paranoid for nothing. This was just a friend’s night.

 

“A happy surprise!” said Taichi, louder now that Zack was back in his vicinity. “Are you still wanting to cook dinner for us?”

 

“Yes, god knows anything you can make isn’t edible.” That was true, Taichi usually preferred to get takeout, and even when he didn’t, he went heavy on the meat. Desperado wondered why they didn’t just get vegan takeout, but then, he wasn’t sure how available it was. Zack probably knew best in that area. “Is boxed curry okay with you, Despey?”

 

That wasn’t Desperado’s favourite meal, but he’d live. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

 

Taichi smirked and gestured across the hallway. “I’ll join you in the kitchen, but you’ll have to help Zack. I can’t cook for shit.” Desperado decided not to comment on how profoundly lazy this sounded.

 

In the kitchen, Taichi put on some cheery idol music that made Zack laugh, and then slumped over the breakfast counter with his reading glasses on scrolling through his phone.

 

Zack got out the knives and pots and other supplies, without so much of a word of input from Taichi. He already knew where everything was. Zack glanced at Desperado, frowning at his inaction, so Desperado started cleaning off the counters too. 

 

Zack had to have cooked here before. Why? Taichi and Zack were just that domestic? That seemed too far for tag team bonding, but Desperado did his best to convince himself otherwise. Cooking together wasn’t that intimate. After all, he and Zack were doing it right then. It was probably just convenient for them, in between trainings and shows.

 

Zack put Desperado to work chopping onions and carrots and peeling potatoes while he worked on the tofu and mushrooms and figured out the mix. Taichi’s single contribution, cooking rice, exuded warmth next to Desperado as he piled up the vegetables. It seemed like every time Desperado put down his knife to discard the shavings he bumped into Zack, their backs pressing together smoothly. Desperado wanted Zack to turn around and hold him, put his arms around Desperado’s waist and his chin on Desperado’s shoulder. 

 

Eventually Zack turned around, fingers brushing Desperado’s side, but he didn’t move to hold him.

 

“It’s good to be hanging out again.” 

 

Desperado felt the same way. 

 

Though maybe he didn’t. Zack had said this before after his training with the Boss, and it sure hadn’t sounded like he had a meant a group night with Taichi then. It had sounded like just the two of them, together having fun. At least this was mostly just them. Taichi only looked up once in a while, a soft, almost coaxing expression on his face.

 

The music changed to a slow song, with a strong beat that swayed hypnotically.

 

“Okay, the curry is simmering now. How about a dance while we wait?” Zack had a playful expression, eyebrows raised, that made Desperado nervous. Where was this coming from?

 

“What kind of dance?” asked Desperado, trying not to think too hard about the prospect of getting to hold Zack after all.

 

“Ballroom, naturally. I’m getting back to my roots.” Zack was going to kill him.

 

Desperado shook his head lightly, baffled. The two of them approached each other tentatively. Zack settled in with one hand on Desperado’s arm, and Desperado did his best to complete the pose. They stepped back and forth, bound to the music. 

 

Desperado held onto Zack’s waist and silently absorbed the moment. It was too good to be true, something this storybook happening to him. With anyone else Desperado would be sure he was about to be laughed at, but he trusted Zack. Zack seemed focused on keeping from stepping on him, but looked down at Desperado for a moment, a ghost of a smile on his face.

 

“God, your form is awful. Zack, get closer to him.” Desperado was surprised it had taken Taichi that long to interrupt. Moreso, he was disappointed in himself. How could he have let his guard down like that with Taichi right next to him?

 

“Oh, do you want a dance, too?” Of course Zack would shift to Taichi. This had never been about Desperado, just Zack’s strange interests. Zack had barely moved closer to him at all. Desperado wanted to pull him in, but restrained himself.

 

Taichi snickered a little and tapped something on his phone. “No, I’m busy, but thanks. Carry on with Desperado if you want.” Zack seemed to have lost the energy in his movements, Desperado noticed as he held him. Taichi stared across at Desperado, pointedly making eye contact, and jerked his head to the side as if to encourage him to continue.

 

Why was this happening? It was strange that Taichi was okay with this, nevermind pushing it along. Desperado had expected Taichi to continue to be possessive, but here he was turning down chances to get close to Zack left and right.

 

Was Taichi trying to give Desperado a chance with Zack? That would be something he’d do. May the better man win, and all, with the usual outcome being Taichi taking the victory and strengthening his ego once again. But this wasn’t a game, or a job, this was Zack. 

 

Later, they ate together on the couch. Soon they would play Fire Pro Wrestling World, but for now, they relaxed. Desperado focused on the sweet apple smell of the curry, and not on Taichi’s shining teeth.

 

“Did you have a good time dancing with Zack?” Taichi said loudly, directing attention towards Desperado. This wasn’t any easy question to answer for them, even if Desperado knew in his head that he had.

 

“I guess,” Desperado answered uneasily, “It probably would have been better if I had stronger form, right?”

 

Zack frowned, chopstick scraping across his bowl. He probably wanted more room to spread out his limbs—Taichi’s couch was too small for three grown men to share comfortably.

 

“Sure, but it worked out. Zack’s technique and your enthusiasm complemented each other. Kind-of like in the ring.”

 

“I don’t know if that’s how I’d put it.” Desperado twirled his chopstick absently, examining the twining design like two people wrapped endlessly around each other.

 

“Well, I had a good time. Just like in the ring,” said Zack, grinning tightly.

 

Desperado’s chest clenched violently. “I’m glad I could keep up enough for you.”

 

“Anyway, this is decent curry. Thanks, Zack.”

 

“Well, Despey helped a lot too...”

 

“Thanks Desperado,” Taichi trailed off. “Zack was so worried about picking something you’d like.”

 

Desperado looked at Zack, who was picking at the last bits of food in his bowl. “That’s nice of you.”

 

Taichi got up, stretching. “Throw your dishes in the sink. It’s time for Fire Pro. I need to kick someone’s ass.”

 

 

 

Desperado remembered being a young lion, watching Taguchi staying with his partner Devitt and still tagging with him within his brand new faction despite the obvious malice in his teammates’ postures. Taguchi had been ready to turn his back on everything for Devitt. And then Devitt threw him away, and a few years later Taguchi was still so heartbroken that he was the one who killed Devitt for good. Desperado had debuted in Wrestle Kingdom for Ibushi—right before that, he sat in the back as Devitt prepared his funeral procession. He came back with smudged makeup and empty hands, and Desperado knew it was time to be born. Just as he knew now it was time to press start, and begin beating the shit out of Taguchi instead of his opponents.

 

Taichi had wanted to beat up Taguchi for old time’s sake, so they selected Taka and Taichi versus Apollo 55 the first time around. Desperado chose to be Devitt immediately. Part of him felt drawn to that role—someone who had made their own destiny and then been destroyed by their past. It was just a video game, but doing it still felt right.

 

Then they went through almost all the big tournament matchups in the upcoming Tag League. Taichi liked to do a preview, though he played through shows rather than simulating them.

 

After working through the Best Friends, KES, Makabe and Henare, and more, they still had to do the Guerillas of Destiny versus Evil and Sanada. That was when things got uncomfortable.

 

“Honestly, I’m surprised Evil is Sanada’s partner this year, and not Takagi,” said Zack. He was hastily spamming Gun Stuns again.

 

“I don’t remember New Japan being that inclusive of juniors before,” said Taichi. “Maybe if they were on a progressive sprint?”

 

“He should be a heavyweight, is what I’m trying to say. Why take attention away from guys like Desperado when you can be fair and put him in our tournament?” 

 

Zack’s thigh pressed up against Desperado’s, leaving a fuzzy, hesitant pleasure. 

 

“Do I even need to answer that?” Taichi’s tongue hovered over his lip as he focused on the game.

 

“It’s not that big of a deal. At least he’s bringing the division more attention.” Desperado let his character Sanada breathe, recovering energy in the corner of the ring. “Maybe he’ll move up after Nobu kills him at Wrestle Kingdom.”

 

“After you and Nobu kill him at Wrestle Kingdom.”

 

“Yes, Zack.” Desperado sighed, moving to avoid Taichi as Tanga Loa’s attempt at a powerslam, and then pushing back as they grappled. “If you care so much about juniors, why did we only have one match as them tonight?”

 

“Okay, that’s fair. Who do you suggest?” 

 

“Takagi?” said Taichi. Zack groaned. “What? Okay, how about Hiromu then? He’s Desperado’s biggest rival.”

 

“Is he?” Desperado got next to computer Evil and positioned Zack as Tama Tonga for the Killer Bomb. They hit it, but Zack kicked out just in time to avoid a loss.

 

“Of course he is,” said Zack, lips clenched in frustration at the game. “I mean. I guess we can play Desperado and Hiromu. How would that work?”

 

“It’s okay, I’ll play the villain,” said Taichi. “Zack, you go as Desperado. You’re so close and spend so much time watching him, so it’ll be easy, right?”

 

Desperado felt numb. What the fuck was Taichi talking about? He didn’t need to joke about Desperado’s failures with Zack. Taichi hit with the Tongan Twist and he barely reacted in time.

 

“Aren’t... you excluding Desperado from playing, then?” Zack said hesitantly. He kept clenching his jaw. “Shouldn’t we tag?” 

 

The game was over. Desperado had pinned Zack for the win. He wasn’t sure how he had done it as he stared into the flashing victory screen.

 

Desperado’s phone rang. What convenient timing. Hopefully, the call would be quick, and he could get back to the game soon after using the distraction it provided.

 

“Desperado. I have to tell you something.” That deep voice was unmistakable. It was Hiromu. But Desperado had never given Hiromu his number.

 

“Wait? What?”

 

“Lee just told me he loves me.” Wow. Desperado wasn’t sure whether to feel envy or gratitude. He hadn’t thought Lee would come to his senses that quickly. That kind of honesty was refreshing, especially coming from a tecnico. Lee was definitely a good match for Hiromu, then.

 

He had to make sure there wasn’t something he was missing, between the original Spanish and Hiromu’s Japanese.

 

“Love? That deep?”

 

Desperado glanced nervously at Zack and Taichi. Taichi was examining his fingernails. Zack stared at the wall, tapping absently at his slacks.

 

“That’s what he said.” Hiromu’s voice sounded dreamy through the phone speaker. Oh. So Dragon Lee had meant real love.

 

This wasn’t the kind of conversation Desperado could have with company around.

 

“It’s… Hiromu,” said Desperado, holding the phone against his shirt. “Let me step out for a minute.”

 

Taichi gestured lazily towards the room’s entranceway. He was allowing it, not that Desperado needed his permission.

 

Desperado went into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, surrounded by little pools of water, and looked out the window at the dark gray clouds gathering in the sky that night.

 

“Okay, I’m glad to hear that you’ve made it with Lee, but how did you get this number?” The man on the spy movie poster on Taichi’s wall taunted Desperado from its place in the shadows.

 

“Lee got it for me! From Caristico, I think.”

 

“Of course he did.” Desperado would have to talk with Caristico about that soon. He’d probably just get told to be glad Hiromu wanted it and was calling him at all, which was a valid point.

 

“Speaking of gifts, where’s your gift for me?” Desperado wonder where this was coming from. Hadn’t he just gotten the gift of all gifts, requited love? Then he realized what Hiromu might be referring to. 

 

“So you saw my Instagram post.” He tried not to sound as happy as he felt. If only he had known Hiromu had seen it back then. Maybe he wouldn’t have drank as much. Or maybe not.

 

“Yeah, I guess I did. Nothing new to see there.” Still, Desperado was smiling. Hiromu was paying attention to him while he was away. “Anyway, it’s only fair for you to follow up now too. We should not be unbalanced.”

 

“I’m not sure what I can give you when you’re all the way in Mexico.”

 

“Love! For Zack. Tell me you’ve made progress.”

 

A beat.

 

Desperado had made the opposite of progress.

 

“I heard his voice, I know you were just with him!”

 

Desperado wasn’t sure what Hiromu had heard that he had missed, but let it slide.

 

“I haven’t made progress, because the only one he has time for right now is Taichi. Have you forgotten about the Tag League going on right now?”

 

“No. But I expected you to be more proactive. That shouldn’t get in the way.”

 

“Well…” Desperado wasn’t sure he should reveal this, but he wanted Hiromu to be somewhat pleased with him. “I did dance with him today. Platonically.”

 

“How romantic! Anything else?” Naturally, Hiromu wasn’t satisfied. 

 

“Not really. Look, Hiromu, he really likes Taichi, not me, and even that isn’t romantic. Not everyone can be as perfect and fated as you and Lee.”

 

“That didn’t get in the way of you wanting before.”

 

“Zack is different. He’s my friend. And… you know I’m still wanting. Even if I won’t try anything.”

 

“I don’t know. I think you’d be surprised how Zack really is.”

 

The man on the poster winked at Desperado as he left the bathroom.

 

Taichi and Zack weren’t by the computer when he came back. Where had they gone?

 

It was hard to see much of anything. The apartment was completely dark now.

 

Desperado walked around, looking for them. There was no sound besides the whir of the heater. Not even Desperado’s footsteps were audible.

 

Then he realized there was still light in another room far away, barely visible—the kitchen, at the other end of the apartment. Desperado traced the walls with his hands, following the light, passing little piles of belongings and trinkets as he went.

 

When he reached the kitchen, the light had grown painfully bright. His eyes watered, and it took a moment to see the room. He leaned half behind the bannister as he adjusted.

 

He saw two people standing at the other end of the room. It was Zack and Taichi.

 

Zack was turned away from him. Taichi’s hands were fisted in Zack’s sweater, his eyes closed. They stood pressed together facing each other. They were kissing.

 

Desperado swallowed, feeling the familiar heat creep up his body. This was private. He needed to go back before they saw him.

 

He could hear the wet sounds of their lips coming together and parting. He felt so sick. For a moment, Taichi broke the kiss, smirking, and Zack grabbed the back of Taichi’s head to pull him in again. Taichi’s eyes closed again, and for a moment it almost looked like he was winking.

 

Taichi’s hand trailed down to Zack’s thigh. Desperado had to leave.

 

He didn’t really remember what happened next. Desperado knew he had gone back to the other room without being noticed. He might have knocked over some disks—he remembered the arc of something falling, like the great scream of an injured woman in a film. 

 

And Desperado knew he must have made a convincing excuse to leave, because now he was back at home in bed, trying to keep his body from trembling. He could taste blood on his lip.

 

They were probably glad he was gone. That way they could continue were they left off.

 

This wasn’t as bad as his other unrequited times. Not even close. Desperado could get through this. No matter how much his blood burned. No matter how flames licked under his skin and left him speechless, even in his own mind.

 

What Taichi and Zack were doing was fine.

 

He was happy for them.

 

He wouldn’t react like last time.

 

He wouldn’t throw away Zack’s friendship.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter was a journey. luckily, it was a keep on journey, and i finished it (much much thanks to everyone at moonsault club, for real couldnt have done this without you). im sorry that i predicted two weeks when this actually took over a month. part of the reason was that the length exploded-- i intended this to be 10k, not over 15k. lmao oh well! im not going to predict again, that was a mistake. know that im always working on this, though. now onto the next chapter! i wrote a companion piece (leaping through the sky) that shows what happened before hiromu called despy. idk that more companions are forthcoming but. well see what kind of ideas come up! 
> 
> as always, i ask that you please consider commenting-- it brings me great joy and motivates me to keep writing when things get tough. 
> 
> hope this was worth the wait!!


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